The Lady
by Cornorama
Summary: Story Complete Events after Scarlett leaves Charleston in the Novel SCARLETT. Rhett and Scarlett reunite in England
1. Chapter 1

_**I own nothing because if I did own Scarlett or Rhett I'd be on my yacht right now.**_

I'm delighted you accepted my invitation Rhett. It's been to long since we've seen you," said Sir John, as he shook out the match he'd just used to light his cigar.

"I won't say that I was initially reluctant, March isn't really the best of times to cross the Atlantic, but I had to get out of Charleston and frankly yours was the best offer I could have hoped to receive," Rhett replied leaning into the downy cushions of the chaise that was carrying them to their destination.

John's half sister, Lettie, nudged her brother. "Do you think Bertie's friend will be there?"

"Bertie?" asked Rhett.

"Prince Albert's new nickname, given to him by his new lady friend,"  
said John evenly.

"I thought his grace wasn't enamored with the fairer sex?" queried Rhett.

"I hear she's very beautiful," interjected Lettie.

"She is, but Prince Albert's has never been what one would call a lady's man."

"John's met Bertie's friend, she's French and always wears black."

Rhett raised an eyebrow. John gave a half amused shrug as if to say younger sisters someone has to put up with them. "And what is she like, this French woman?"

John laughed. "She isn't French, that's simply where Prince Leo and the Princesses Alice and Helena met her. They apparently were so taken with the Lady they insisted she be the royal family's guest in London. She and Bertie met at Whitehall and from all reports have been inseparable ever since."

"Lady Evelyn told my that she'd heard from her mama that the Queen is most pleased, she'd been worried that the Prince would be a deviant," said Lettie innocently.

"Lettie, I know that you like Evelyn, but for God's sake don't take to repeating her empty prattle."

"But John she also told me that Bertie's never even touched the Princess Alexandra and they've been married nearly 12 years."

Rhett laughed, "The princess must be enchanting."

"Rhett," muttered John, "Don't encourage her."

"Oh don't mind John, he thinks I gossip entirely to much but I don't do this in public. I just talk like this to rill John and to pass the time. I've heard that Halverston House is exquisite but it's terribly far from Briarwood."

"It must be a bit of a scandal though. Your prince taking up with a foreigner after he's neglected his spouse for a little over a decade," Rhett surmised.

John nodded, "Not that he could marry the lady, but at the least now that he's showing an acute interest in a woman it's certainly putting many of the rumors of his perversions to rest."

"He means everyone's always said the Prince prefers muffin lads," translated Lettie.

"LETTIE," gasped John, That's incredibly vulgar."

"And more than likely true," Lettie shot back tartly, "Just because you treat me like a child doesn't mean I am one."

"I seriously doubt I'll ever be treating you like an adult if you can't learn to act like one."

Rhett held up on hand hoping to interrupt the argument that was about to spill over between the siblings. "So tell me more about this lady? Where did she come from before France and her assignation with the royal family."

"According to the stories I've heard which seem to be mostly the same the lady is in fact a widow,"

"Hence the black," supplied Rhett."

John nodded "Her late husband was a privateer but I suspect from the personal wealth she displays he may have been more likely a gentleman pirate. She speaks French beautifully, plays the piano..."

"The Princess Helena held a recital for her," interrupted Lettie, "Several girls from my school went, they said she was incredibly," Lettie paused for a moment searching for a word, "Passionate. They said that when she played Mr. Beethoven's Fur Elise those present wept."

"Except for her cavorting with a married man she sounds a paragon of femininity," Rhett commented satirically.

"It's not as it sounds, by all accounts they don't share a bed, she does act as his hostess but they don't share an attachment of the flesh."

"Is this what you're learning at that school," asked John, "I was assured that it was an institute of higher learning for gently bred young ladies."

"Gently bred John, not dead."

"Let her be John, better she knows a little of this wicked world than she enters it a babe enrobed in the veils of innocence."

"And if she were your responsibility?" asked John.

"I'd lock her in a closet till she turned thirty," laughed Rhett.

Lettie clapped her hands in delight, "Hush both of you, we're here."

As the carriage pulled to the wide marble steps Lettie squared her small shoulders waiting in anticipation for the footman to hand her down. She was determined to integrate herself with the lady and turn every single girl at her ladies academy pea green with envy.

John stepped down besides his sister smiling slightly. His sister never ceased to amuse him. She honestly kept him young.

Rhett followed the Morland's up the steps. Charleston had become a noose that he was pleased to leave behind. After the Anne fiasco anywhere was an improvement.

Before him John was straightening up after kissing their hostesses hand. He gave half an ear to John's introduction of the Lady Lettice Morland. He smiled at Lettie's eager voice instructing the lady to call her Lettie as all her friends did. It was the hostess's reply that caught his full attention.

"You must call me Scarlett, everyone does whether they are my friend or not."

"Madame, may I present to you a very good friend of mine, Mr. Rhett Butler."

Rhett stepped forward and took the proffered hand that Scarlett extended to him. He lifted her hand so that the back of it almost touched his lips. "A pleasure...? My apologies I don't believe I know your name."

Scarlett's face remained serene as she gave her name. "Madame Robiliard, Mr. Butler, you are American, no?"

"My accent gives me away, as does yours Madame," Rhett replied willing to go along with her game for the time being, "You are also American, Southern if I would venture a guess."

Scarlett clapped her hands as though delighted with his mastery of accents. "Quite so monsieur, from Georgia, but that was long ago. I do not believe I now a soul there now."

"Is that so?" replied Rhett, "How...unfortunate for the people of Georgia."

Scarlett nodded "You'll excuse me there are so many guests, I sometimes envy Mercury," she laughed "Oh but to have wings on my slippers, Sir John, Bertie wanted a word in the library when you'd arrived. I'll have your guests shown to their rooms."

Sir John bowed "Of course, Lettie excuse me."

Scarlett led John away without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

As the footman lead them upstairs Lettie gave Rhett an appraising glance "So how do you know Scarlett?"

"How do you mean," Rhett said guardedly.

"You obviously know her, and she knows you. The two of you spent nearly five minutes verbally sparing downstairs I'm just curious to what end."

"Ladies academies have come a long way in the last 20 years for you to deduce all that from a five minute conversation."

"She's very beautiful," remarked Lettie.

"I suppose."

"She's not really a widow is she?"

Rhett laughed "That is the only thing I can assure you of, Madame is indeed a widow."

"Fascinating, remember what I said earlier about the prince," at this Lettie lowered her voice significantly, "they say he does not indulge in sins of the flesh, at least not with woman."

"What makes you think that matters to me," asked Rhett.

"From the way you looked at Madame I should think it matters a great deal Mr. Butler," Lettie smiled, she curtsied to him "Your servant Mr. Butler."

Lettie entered the room she was to occupy for the week. Rhett bowed from the waist before continuing to follow the footman to his own suit. What was Scarlett doing here, in England of all places? Her French both in word and accent was flawless he had to admit and if what Lettie said was true she was playing the piano once more. He did remember her being a fair player but she must have improved. But now she called herself Robiliard, her mother's maiden name as though she were attempting to conceal her identity. Of course as the companion to the future king of England he was surprised Scarlett wasn't flaunting her stasis.

The footman's voice broke Rhett from his contemplation of the earlier events. He entered his assigned room and though in his life had seen many beautiful rooms this one was certainly a masterpiece of both style and refinement.

The bed was a simple mahogany four-poster with an ivory coverlet with a random pattern picked out in rich royal blue silk embroidery floss. The rest of the furniture was simple in appearance but of the same rich woods. The wallpaper was a flocked ivory silk with a dulled sheen. He ventured into the sitting room as was pleased to find a small marble fireplace and a view of the landscaped back lawn leading into the parkland of the prince's country estate.

Hearing a noise in the bedroom Rhett went back to arrange the unpacking of his belongs with the valet only to find Scarlett sitting demurely in a wing chair by the window.

"I've dismissed the valet, but once we've finished I'll have someone come up to sort out your things. I know how you hate disarray."

Rhett seated himself on the settee across from her. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Please yourself, it's your room after all," she replied politely.

"What no French phrases bidding me to delight myself? You are a constant font of surprises Scarlett, tell me when we were together did you speak French so well?"

"I spoke it, but I do admit, not so well as I do now. Did you know I was here or is our reunion simply," she laughed mirthlessly "fate."

"No I didn't know you were here, I was in Wales to buy some horses from Sir John and he invited me here thinking I'd enjoy the hunting. Have you had any good hunting here Scarlett?"

"No," she answered shortly.

"May I make so bold as to ask why Mrs. Robiliard?"

"A fresh start Rhett, it's the only name I'm known by here and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mind keeping my confidence."

"Madame, your secret is safe with me," he answered melodramatically.

"I've heard that before," replied Scarlett smiling slightly.

"How are you," Rhett asked simply.

Scarlett remained silent trying to compose either a polite or a true answer and was slightly dismayed to find that nether seemed to be forthcoming. "I'm assez," she answered finding the word in French.

"Enough?" he translated.

"It doesn't sound the same in English does it? I am neither happy, nor sad; I'm simply enough. I don't long for anything; I have friends and a sort of family. Helena and I am good friends and I have Bertie so it's enough."

"Where are Wade and Ella, are they here?"

"No, Wade is happily ensconced at Harvard planning his future in law, as he believes Charles would have wished him to. He wrote me only last month to tell me he wants to attend Oxford in two years time so I've been making plans to stay in England for the foreseeable future."

"And Ella?"

Scarlett's face became closed "You didn't get my letter?"

Rhett knew from her tone of voice what she was preparing to say before she even spoke. His mind flashed back to early last winter when he'd received a letter by way of Henry Hamilton from Scarlett, how he'd burned it without even reading it.

"She passed away Rhett," Scarlett's face lost all it's carefully schooled composure. "Last year in France, she had a cough and at first I thought it was just that. I took her to a doctor and he told me it was a simple childhood aliment and that it would pass. Within two weeks she was dead. She was gone and there wasn't a thing anyone could do. Oh Rhett," said Scarlett, the tears running down her face, "I wrote you, I even sent you a telegraph at your mothers but you didn't come. She kept asking for you and I promised her you'd come if she would just wait and finally one night she woke up and looked at me and she told me I'd lied to her, that you weren't coming, that you'd never come." Scarlett's voice broke and she could no longer continue. She sat there across from him crying without a sound.

Rhett closed his eyes for a moment trying to let her words sink in, Ella gone. The only other daughter he could even remotely claim in the world was gone to and he hadn't even said good-bye and now would never have the chance. Scarlett pain was evident in her tear blurred eyes. He knelt before her and took her hands in his.

"Scarlett?"

"Don't Rhett, please there isn't anything you can say and it would only hurt to hear you try."

She looked down at him. "She's with them now."

Rhett didn't even have to ask whom she meant. "Yes I'm sure she is."

"Rhett?"

"Yes?"

"This life, the one I've built here, don't ruin this for me, it's all that I have now and without it I would die."

His voice failing him he nodded.

"You have your wife and someday I'm sure you two will have children, but I've lost everyone I've ever loved except Wade and he blames me...for you, for bring Ella to France. He thinks if I'd stayed in Atlanta everything would have worked itself out. He's nearly a man and yet sometimes he's still such a little boy. I hope that in time he'll come here and perhaps we can forge some kind of relationship."

"My wife?"

"I know about Anne, you needn't spare me. Rosemary sent me a short missive in Paris informing me of your nuptials, I assumed that's why you didn't come when I telegraphed..." she dwindled off.

"I never got the telegraph or saw the letter," that was after all partially true. Rosemary or Anne must have destroyed the telegraph and as for the letter, he'd never opened it so that wasn't exactly a lie, "I'm so sorry."

"Are you happy?"

"I like Charleston, it's suited me the last year and a half."

Scarlett laughed, "I hated Charleston, it's probably better that things didn't work out between us. I couldn't have stayed in Charleston, not even, I suspect out of love for you."

"Perhaps I could have made it more bearable."

"Well that's water under our burnt bridge now isn't it Rhett." Scarlett rose and he followed suit. "I am, in spite of everything glad to see you, but if you'll excuse me I have some things to attend to."

Rhett walked her to the door; he bowed and took her hand placing on it the kiss he'd denied it before. "A pleasure Mrs. Robiliard."

"Your servant, Mr. Butler." And with that she quietly pulled the door closed behind herself.  
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	2. Chapter 2

_That's two chapter's in one night lucky ducks_

"Bertie?"

"Scarlett darling, whatever's the matter, you look as if you've seen a ghost?"

Scarlett sat across from Prince Albert. "In a way I have. My late lamented husband is settling into his rooms as we speak."

"Rhett? The great Rhett Butler is here? Well finally this week is looking up. I've always been terribly curious as to the type of man that would so captivate you."

"Bertie please. Don't even acknowledge that you know about him and I, please."

Bertie took a sip of his brandy. "Did you tell him about the enfant?"

"No I did not. Bess is none of his business."

"He is her father Scarlett."

"No he isn't, you are."

Bertie laughed. "No one really believes that story I'm afraid. Oh darling why can't you tell him, I think you'd sleep better with it off your chest."

Scarlett poured herself a neat brandy. "Helena agrees with me. Neither of us thinks Rhett deserves to know. He married that milksop Anne when he loved me. He made love to me, and then went to her a bare month later, and damn him to hell I still love him."

"Darling, it's woman like you and my sisters that make me regret that I don't feel a shred of sexual attraction toward woman. You must be explosive in bed." Bertie smiled widely at her. "Why don't you go upstairs and treat Mr. Butler to a taste of what he's been missing. Vanilla is very nice, but bland. Where as you darling are a seductive treat entirely without definition."

Scarlett stood and began to pace. "You are no help what so ever, you know that don't you. Why I love you, I'll never know. You have been the best friend I could ever hope to find, yet you drive me to distraction."

"Scarlett, do you know why I am the constant thorn in your side. Because when you don't like the course of our conversations you can't flash me a smile and an expanse of breasts, and to be frank the smile would stand a better chance. You love the man, you've talked about him since the first time I met you. Your child needs a father and frankly and with love you need a man."

"He has a wife Bertie."

"Is she here?"

"No."

"Sounds as if there's trouble in paradise."

"I doubt it."

"Then my little serpent why don't you go make some."

Scarlett smiled and came forward to give Bertie a peck on the cheek.  
"Sometimes I wish you really were Bess's father."

"Liar, you are quite pleased with her father, but thank you for the complement all the same."

"I have some last minute arrangements to see to. The Princess Alexandra sent her regrets but will not be joining us this weekend."

"Sometimes my angel, I would love to claim Bess as my daughter, seek an annulment from my shrew of a wife and live in content bachelorhood awaiting my coronation. That way my mother would simply think I had my head turned at last by a lovely woman I could never hope to have. It would make my life a hell of a lot simpler."

"Lord Winchale arrived a little while ago."

"Ah but then I'd only seek to complicate my life. Would you ask him to come wait on me here?"

Scarlett paused by the door. "Do you think that's wise?"

"I don't, but it's what I'd like."

Scarlett sighed and set off to find Lord Robert Winchale.

Bertie leaned back in his chair. There had to be some way to help Scarlett and he only had a little less than a week to find it.  
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Scarlett stood still as two maids put the finishing touches on her dress and hair. One tied the fringed sash around Scarlett's tiny waist while the other carefully threaded pearls strung on a narrow gold chain through Scarlett's heavy black hair.

She felt as though she were a doll like the ones that Ella and Bonnie dressed and played with their whole short lives. She could be Bonnie's doll Miss March, so named because Rhett bought the doll in March. Scarlett smiled slightly; Bonnie had no imagination when it came to names. Her pony Mr. Butler, Miss March her doll, and Kitty-Kitty her cat.

Rhett was here in this house tonight. They had been apart for a year and a half and now he was here like a miracle. She still loved him, deeply. She knew that. Scarlett knew in her soul that she would always love Rhett. She thought that she loved Ashley but she'd know that in her heart she would have never taken the risks required to be with Ashley,  
whereas to be with Rhett she would give up everything. Not that she had much. Wealth, yes, more in fact than she could ever hope for while starving at Tara after the War. From her investments and the money from Rhett she might actually have more money than she could ever spend. None of it meant a damn thing.

After Ella died there really wasn't anything left. Except of course for Elizabeth. Elizabeth Victoria Butler. Her angel and her lifeline in the ocean of tears she'd been drowning in.

She knew that Rhett must be wondering about her now fluent mastery of the French language. She of course knew a little French from her mother and her ladies academy education. But only after Ella died and she and the Princess Helena had grow so close did she throw herself whole-heartedly into mastering French.

She'd met Helena, and her sisters the Princesses Beatrice, Alice and Victoria at the Paris Flower Market the July after she'd left Rhett. By then she was nearly six months pregnant. She and Ella had decided to paint so Scarlett suggested they find a floral subject at the Paris flower market in the Rux de Premiere. Ella was thrilled that her mother wanted  
to take her on an excursion so she was on her best behavior.

While at the flower market they had been behind a group of woman who were obviously British from their dress and accents. Scarlett had laughed to herself when she realized they were engaging in the age old pastime of tease the youngest sister till she cries. A game that was the same no matter where and with whom it was played. All the sisters kept teasing the youngest, Beatrice, about a Henry Battenberg. Finally Alice declared that she would tell Albert on the lot of them and then they'd see who laughed loudest.

It was then that Ella tugged Scarlett's sleeve. "The lady in the green dress mother dropped this." She bent and offered Scarlett a beautiful bracelet with beautiful inland mother of pearl work.

Scarlett admired it for a minute before telling Ella "Run and catch them darling, I'm a little winded and I might not be able to make it. I'll wait here." Ella glowed to be entrusted with a mission by her mother. Obviously her mother trusted her.

Ella darted after the ladies and a moment later the group came back following Ella and the youngest woman, still a girl really.

"Oh thank goodness for you and your daughter Madame. That bracelet was a present from my fiancée and he would have been very cross."

Scarlett handed it to her "It appears the clasp is broken, it should be simple to fix."

By this time the group had arrived. One of the woman who was older than the others smiled. "You aren't French, nor your daughter? American, from the south."

"Yes," answered Scarlett offering no more. Maybe this wasn't a coincidence; perhaps Rhett was looking for her and these woman...

"Madame? Are you alright you look very pale and you are,..." The lady made a helpless gesture.

"Mama's going to have a baby sister just for me," piped up Ella.

The older lady, the group's spokeswoman laughed "But poppet what if the angels send a boy, won't you be happy with a brother?"

Ella shook her ginger curls. "No, the baby is a sister. I'm sure."

The lady turned to Scarlett and smiled "I fear I have offended your daughter Madame. My name Victoria, you've met Beatrice," she gestured to the youngest clutching the bracelet, "and this is Helena and Alice," she continued gesturing to the other two."

Scarlett smiled "I am Scarlett Robiliard and this is my daughter, Ella."

Ella swept them a deep curtsy "Enchante Mademoiselles."

"Close Ella," replied Scarlett. "She is just learning French and I had thought perhaps living in France would immerse her in the language." There that explained why they were in France just in case.

Beatrice looked at Scarlett's simple black dress. "I'm sorry about your husband."

Scarlett blanched at the same time as the sister identified as Helena exclaimed "Beatrice, for the love of God."

Beatrice colored a deep rose. "She is very young", apologized Victoria who was also blushing.

Scarlett smiled to herself as she remembered the sisters' horror at the implied rudeness of Beatrice innocent statement. The British she'd learned were stickler for proper behavior and good manners and Beatrice had now embarrassed them all.

Helena rebounded quickly. "Madame Robiliard perhaps you and your daughter would be our guests for dinner tonight at our hotel, a thank you for Ella retrieving my sisters bracelet?"

Scarlett looked down at Ella "Well..."

Ella tugged her mothers sleeve; Scarlett leaned down "I could wear my new dress mama, oh please."

Scarlett laughed and all four sisters looked relieved "Who am I to say no to an invitation when one has a new dress."

From then on the sisters and Scarlett grew closer as July. Scarlett and Ella often joined them for the ballet, the opera, and picnics on the Grand Promenade. The sisters eagerly suggested names for Scarlett's baby. Alice and Victoria already had children so they were both filled with suggestions both good and awful.

Then came September, the sisters were all preparing to return to London were they would then be heading for home from. Alice and Victoria both lived abroad with their husbands while Helena and Beatrice lived in London.

They all promised to write once they arrived home and Scarlett promised to let them know if she and Ella left France for anywhere else. Then Ella became ill and was gone. Scarlett had been inconsolable. She could only remember Ella calling her a liar saying that her Uncle Rhett would come when he didn't.

It was Helena who sent the other sisters home and told them that she was staying with Scarlett till her baby was born.

Rhett put the finishing touches on his evening clothes in preparation to go downstairs for a late supper with the rest of Prince Albert's guests.

So Scarlett had fallen in with the British Royal family. That woman was no end of surprises. He took a small breath thinking back on her discourse on Ella. How could Ella be gone? Silly but sweet little Ella. Bonnie's best friend and truly his other daughter. He should have been there.

If only he hadn't be so quick to dismiss a letter from Scarlett as an appeal for a reconciliation. But the other thing she'd told him, that she'd sent him a telegram. If she was telling the truth and though Scarlett could lie like the devil when it suited her he doubted she'd lie about the existence of a telegram.

Who signed for it? Obviously he hadn't, if he had known nothing would have stopped him from being there for Ella and her mother.

Could Rosemary have taken his message? Perhaps she didn't read it. Maybe she just saw that it was from Scarlett and believed she was saving her brother from himself. But there was a second possibility, one that forced his normal control to a near breaking point.

Anne.  
Anne who simpered and volunteered her time with unfortunate children. Anne who blushed constantly in his presence. Anne who pretended to be attacked in her home so that his mother and sister would beg her to come and stay with them. Anne who only in the heat of an argument with him reveled that Scarlett had written a note detailing her travel itinerary in case Mrs. Butler worried or if Rhett wanted to locate her.

Of course Anne took his telegram because she still thought that she had a chance of becoming Mrs. Rhett Butler and she saw a dying child as a threat to those plans. Scarlett herself told him that she thought Anne was a sly minx. He simply chalked it up to female jealousy but why would Scarlett O'Hara be jealous of a pale-faced do gooder. She wasn't, she simply with her shrewd unsentimental eyes saw not Melanie Wilkes redux,  
but a shallow copy.

Now he'd lost the chance to tell Ella how much he loved her, he would have to find the courage to ask Scarlett where Ella rested so he could pay his respects to her if nothing else. Also Wade's address at Harvard, he would have to make it a point to go up north to see the boy, the only one of his children left. His heart ached for Scarlett. If she was correct and Wade was angry with her she was probably heart broken.

Although he often baited her about her mothering abilities he knew that Scarlett loved Wade and Ella and Bonnie all in her own way. They could have always depended on her for food, shelter, and protection. Scarlett simply wasn't expressive when it came to her feelings toward them. Now all she had left was Wade and she had said he was furious about Ella and her choices in life in general. Would it be possible for both of them to go and see Wade? She might not like that suggestion and above all he didn't want to hurt her ever again. But between them would that ever be a possibility?  
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Scarlett stood at the vast double doors leading to the dinning room where the supper was being served. She was gracious, constantly smiling as she greeted each of the prince's guests often by name. Her sharp memory for numbers in business had translated nicely into professional hostessing. Which in theory was her position as listed under the household accounts. She drew a salary of 4 pounds sterling each quarter. Bertie had tried to give her much more but she'd refused saying that she couldn't profit from their friendship.

Many of the guest were trying to come to conclusions about her. Was it true, was she the future King of England's mistress? But many people had believed that the Prince's taste ran toward, well frankly men. Not boys but handsome titled peers of the realm who shared his interest. But now Prince Albert had a beautiful woman constantly at his side that for all intents and purposes he was devoted to. Then there was another rumor, one that was only whispered. That Bess Robiliard was in fact Elizabeth Victoria the illegitimate daughter of Prince Albert.

How was this possible, in that Scarlett had to admire the tenacity of the rumor mill. The Prince had in fact gone to Germany to visit cousins last February actually around the time Scarlett had gotten pregnant. People whispered that perhaps the Prince had stopped over in Paris and left her pregnant. In order to keep rumors from being started the Prince's sister, Helena, was the one to bring Scarlett to London then to Whitehall to met the Prince when she was a guest of the Royal Family at Whitehall.

What happened next was equally amazing. The Queen of England herself who had been living in a self imposed isolation from the time her husband had died in 1861 till around about 1870. The rumors about her son had of course reached her so she was both shocked but also a bit hopeful. Could her son have a mistress who was carrying his child? Perhaps after all the talk about the prince being a Sapphic he was simply displeased with his wife and that's why he'd never showed any desire toward Princess Alexandra. The Queen asked to be presented to Scarlett while she was at Whitehall. Bertie was at first reluctant but the Queen was adamant, she wanted to meet the lady that was the whisper of London's drawing and ball rooms.

Scarlett who was so overjoyed at the prospect of being a mother was nearly glowing. She was so engaging that the Queen offered to stand as Godmother for Scarlett's child. Bertie tried to explain to his mother that Scarlett was just his friend but even this did not deter the Queen. She liked Scarlett and liked the thought of having a child in her life that was not being groomed for a future in Royal intrigue or their future as a marriage pawn.

It was a still night in late October when she went into labor. Scarlett awoke to the familiar pain of the beginnings of contractions snapping across her stomach. She called out to the ladies maid that Bertie insisted be stationed in her room every night in case she needed anything.

"Renee?"

The girl blinked the sleep out of her eyes. "Yes ma'am?"

Scarlett gritted her teeth for a moment. "Would you run and tell Mrs. Banett that I believe I may need a Doctor. I think I'm going into labor, now."

Renee immediately rose to her feet from the small couch next to the fireplace that she'd been dozing on. "Yes ma'am, will you be alright though?"

Scarlett nodded. She had tried to respond but a random pain caught her off guard and it was all she could do not to cry out. "Make sure someone let's his majesty know that I've started."

Renee hurried from the room as though the hounds of hell were on her heels. Scarlett lay in the semi darkness trying to breath in and out calmly. This would be the first baby since Wade that Melanie wouldn't be by her side to urge her on and support her.

"Scarlett?"

Scarlett turned her head to see Bertie standing in her doorway. "Bertie? I told that girl to let you know, you didn't have to come."

"Of course not," he picked up a chair and brought it to her bedside, "but aren't you glad that I'm here."

Scarlett thought silently for a moment she desperately wanted to say that she was brave enough to do this on her own but another contraction made her cry out.

"You'll stay, swear to..." her jaw tightened against the pain.

Bertie nodded "Of course, I realize that it's highly unheard of to even offer, but you might very well be the only friend I've ever had besides my sisters."

The labor was fast but intense, at one point the pain was so blinding that Scarlett vaguely remembered begging Bertie not to let Anne Hampton raise her child with Rhett.

But when it was finished she held her small, perfect baby girl in her arms. After Bertie had her nightgown and bed linens changed they lay side by side watching Scarlett's baby sleep.

"I wish that things were different, not often mind you, but I wish that your child was mine as well. That you were my wife or even mistress. There's at least honor in loving your mistress. Most men would even find that acceptable. Marry for duty, love for the sheer sake of love."

Scarlett turned her head to look at him. "Oh Bertie, isn't there any way for you to be happy?"

"I could deny who I am to the very deepest fibers of my being, no my love. I will simply have to learn to be content with what I have. "Bertie reached out to trace the baby's nose with his pinkie, "I have a beautiful goddaughter and a friend, and for me what more could I hope for? So come Madame Secretive what is her name?"

Scarlett smiled I've decided, after spending these last few months in London I've chosen Elizabeth after one of your Queen. She outwitted all her enemies and let no man rule over her, a perfect example for my beautiful daughter, and if, that is if you wouldn't mind, for a middle name I thought Victoria for your mother who has been so kind to me."

Bertie smiled "My mother will be over the moon, I don't think you could have selected a better name."

True to their word Bertie and Queen Victoria had stood godparents to her child and the months had past. In spite of the loss of Ella and her estrangement from Wade Scarlett was finding peace at last. She had friends, powerful ones that was pleasing in itself. Her daughter was a constant delight and then there was of course Bertie.

Bertie who was so special to her that she couldn't imagine her life without him. They hunted together, rode for hours on end, and danced together at fetes and balls. The ton, London's society, nodded and said of course it had all been just idle gossip about the Prince's sexual desires, the Princess Alexandra was a whey faced Norwegian who would put anyone off the idea of procreation.

Bertie had offered to give her a title, not being British she couldn't be a Dame but he could find an Irish title for her one going back to when the O'Hara's ruled Ireland. She refused, preferring instead to be referred to by the French word for Mrs., Madame.


	3. Chapter 3

Scarlett descended the main staircase on Bertie's arm. Halverston House was their favorite out of all the Prince's residences. Their suites were located on the third floor in what was known as the old wing. Scarlett's bedroom had a dressing room that she'd converted into a nursery and a large sitting room as well as a tiled bathing chamber. Her rooms connected to Bertie's through a spacious study they shared using it instead as a morning room.

The Ton swept them courtly bows and deep curtseys. Every one of them could see how pleased Bertie was with Scarlett's company. Together they made their way to the door of the dinning room where they would greet the guests together as they made their way to supper.

Rhett held back at the top of the stairs so he could observe Scarlett undetected. Good God she was beautiful. Especially with the black dress she was wearing emphasizing her flawless rose hinted complexion. The white-fringed silk sash draped artfully around her waist only further emphasized just how tiny it still was. He couldn't believe that a year and a half passed by.

Did she still love him as she claimed to when they were in Charleston? The prince inclined his golden head downward to whisper something in her ear. He watched as she laughed and said something in reply. The prince extended one hand, which she smartly rapped with her fan. Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler, once a the belle of Clayton County was now the confidant and bosom companion to the future King of Britain, in such a secure position she could without a regard for the rules of propriety rap the knuckles of royalty.

Maybe it wasn't to late for them after all. After the Barbeque at Twelve Oaks he'd though about courting her. There'd even been a minute or two, while riding back to Frank Kennedy's plantation, in which he considered returning to Charleston to crawl on his belly to his father to beg forgiveness so he could once again be received by the Old Guard of the South. He'd wanted her that badly. Then Frank that old maid in trousers turned to him eager to gossip about the unexpected engagement of his future sister-in-law to the brother of the future wife of their son's host. Rhett lips curved seductively as he smirked. He could even now remember how Frank's whiskers quivering with outraged modesty at the thought of two people becoming engaged only to marry a week later.

During the war on the many nights he sailed contraband back from Nassau, the Bahamas, and sometimes Europe he recalled the way her eyes burned when she was angry. The way her dimples came out when she smiled. The way she smelled of lavender and rosewater. How she felt in his arms when they'd dance. He worried about her. The occasions he visited bordellos were both embarrassing and enlightening. The only woman he would even look at had to be pale skinned, black haired, green-eyed beauties. He wanted stand-ins for the woman he truly lusted after. The embarrassing part came when one night while being satisfied by a whore named Bridget he cried out Scarlett's name. The whore smiled at him knowingly. Everyone at L'Ange Tombé knew about the American gentleman who'd only take the Irish girls upstairs. After that slip he decided to take his pleasure in gambling and drinking instead.

After the War when she came to see him in jail he let himself believe for a second that she cared from him despite her over the top story of Tara's prosperity. But it had been a ruse to get her pretty paws on his bank account. It didn't particularly matter that he couldn't write her that bank draft. Even if he'd been able to he wouldn't have. It would have tempted him to trade money for her body, willing and warm beneath his. But she wouldn't have been willing, not really. He could not use her love for Tara and her feelings of responsibility towards its inhabitants to degrade her sexually.

Once freed from the Yankee jail, after some subtle reminders to people who'd been very willing to sell to the South while publicly supporting the Union. He hurried to PittyPat's only to find she was lost to him once again..

She'd married Frank Kennedy and he tried to give her up, tried to rend her from his heart, but he couldn't. Instead he'd returned to Atlanta over and over. He'd driven her to the mill when she was pregnant with Ella because the thought of anyone harming her when he wasn't there to protect her drove him to tossing and turning in the large empty beds he'd occupied more often than not alone. The first time he'd held Ella on the front steps of Pitty's house he'd teased Scarlett about how much the baby resembled Frank but he never told her how the baby had her same lips and nose. Later as Ella had grown bigger she'd had more in common with her mother than he'd ever pointed out to Scarlett. He'd loved having a family, having a home even if it was a monument to poor taste. He loved Scarlett. He knew finally after years of denial that he'd love her till the day he died. Fate in the form of Sir John Morland had brought him to her after months of frantic searching and if Scarlett would meet him even halfway they might just have a chance together.

Rhett had been lost in reflection longer than he thought. The receiving line was coming to an end. He hurried down the Grande staircase to the doors leading into the dining room.

"Scarlett."

Scarlett offered her finely boned hand. "Rhett, allow me to present you to the founder of the feast, Prince Albert; future king of Britain."

Rhett bowed. "An honor your grace."

Bertie smiled. "You and Scarlett are previously aquatinted? You seem very...familiar."

Scarlett laughed. "Darling we're Americans, when one finds another such as one's self an immediate bond of kinship is formed."

Bertie laughed boisterously "To you all Southerners are kin and kindred sprits. I shall never understand Americans, especially those hailing from the American South." He smiled down at Scarlett. "Although a lack of understand does not prevent me from finding certain Southerners very charming indeed."

Rhett bowed again and entered the dinning room vowing to corner her later for details on just what exactly was the relationship between herself and the Prince.  
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The stood together at the doors to the dining room waiting for everyone to become settled in their seats only to have to rise again when the Prince's fanfare played. Currently they were engaged in heated conversation.

"I don't care, wife or not; Scarlett he loves you. Surely you must see that."

"Not now Bertie, for the sake of Christ the savior not now." Scarlett's voice broke slightly.

"You're going to cry?" he asked.

"How much longer do you think I can stand and pretend he and I are strangers? I've never loved anyone but Rhett and when he leaves this party he'll be leaving my life to return to the bed of a girl, a child who couldn't love him if she had her whole lifetime plus ten others to learn."

"Ah Scarlett, prenez à coeur mon amour, si n'importe qui trumiph que ce sera vous."

Scarlett mouthed his words silently to herself. "Take heart my love, if anyone shall triumph it will be you?"

"Very good my love, King François of France once sent a ring engraved with that sentiment to Anne Boleyn when Henry the 8th was attempting to divorce his Spanish wife."

"Anne was the mother of Elizabeth?"

"We'll make a scholar of you yet. Anne brought down the church, the rules that governed this country as well as the rules of marriage. Henry committed many acts in the name of their love."

"I'm not sure I follow?"

The Prince laughed as the trumpets began the fanfare that would signal one and all to be upstanding for their future king. "Love is the lever which can be used to move the entire world."

Scarlett shrugged displaying her irritation with his riddles.

"Make him jealous darling without him seeing that's what you're doing." With that the Prince took her arm to escort them to the head of the table where she would sit at his right. While Bertie loved Scarlett he wasn't above using her to send a clear message that being, of course I love woman just not my wife.


	4. Chapter 4

Scarlett's face felt like it was frozen in a constant gracious smile. Bertie leaned over several times during dinner gently running his finger down her bare upper arm as though they were lovers. They would incline their heads towards one another speaking in French about topics that interested them. Mostly English history as Albert was working on a history of the British Throne and it's monarchs.

Grazing her wrist with his index finger he smiled a lazy, languorous smile. Scarlett forced herself to smile back at him. "Bertie, you should be ashamed. Surely you are breaking the heart of a certain person now present."

Bertie laughed. "It is certainly not one of my amoureuses que je souhaite mettre à feu." (Love affairs I am wishing to ignite.)

Scarlett turned to look at Bertie completely disregarding convention to claim his full attention, she whispered hurriedly to him in French "Mon Dieu que vous essayez de rendre Rhett jaloux. Je ne pense pas qui est possible mon amour." (My God you're trying to make Rhett jealous. I do not think that is possible my love)

Bertie smiled at her and took her hand in his turning it palm side up as though they were alone together instead of in a crowded dinning room, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it deeply. He whispered to her softly, but barely containing his laughter. "Je vous adore l'OH Venus." (I worship you oh Venus)

Scarlett couldn't help it, she burst out into a peel of laughter. "You are horrible, wonderful, but incorrigible."

He spoke low but confidently. "I do adore you and if I can't be happy I plan on living vicariously through you."  
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Rhett continued to make small talk with Sir John as Lettie continued to sigh dramaticaly over the forbidden romance brewing between the Prince and Scarlett.

"Did you see that," Lettie exclaimed in a scandalized hiss, "He just took a flower from the centerpiece and broke the stem, now he's putting it in her hair."

Rhett drank deeply from his glass of wine. For the past hour he'd been pointedly ignoring the activities of Scarlett and her Prince. Not that he would have had to look at them. Lettie had kept up a fairly constant commentary. Rhett's grip on the wine glasses stem was so tight John feared he'd crush it in his iron grip.

Sir John leveled his gaze on his sister; enough was enough. "Enough. You obviously haven't been paying attention during the deportment lessons at your school. You are both boring our guest and embarrassing myself. Two fatal faux pas in the course of just one meal."

Lettie looked at her brother, her eyes brimming up with tears as though he'd just slapped her. "Please excuse me, but I've lost my appetite." She stood and curtsied to her brother and Rhett.

Sir John frowned "Lettie, please." But she already had begun to weave her way through the small intimate dinning tables that Scarlett had chosen instead of the usual long table so favored by the aristocracy.

John turned to Rhett, still frowning slightly. "I'm doing a terrible botch of the whole guardian thing. I yell too much and my only experience of seventeen year old girls is nearly twenty years in the past when I myself was seventeen."

Rhett glanced in Scarlett's direction almost against his will. "Seventeen year old girls can be quite a handful, so can twenty-seven year olds for that matter."

"Is Lettie right, do you know Scarlett far more intimately than you've let on?"

Rhett sipped from his wine glass stalling for time graciously. "Been listening to Lettie I see."

"You've been studiously avoiding looking at the head table for much of the last four courses. You actually didn't quite appear to be so bored by Lettie's running commentary as I pretended you to be."

"Sir John?" So intent on their conversation neither had noticed that Scarlett had risen from the head table to grace theirs with her presence."

Sir John stood and bowed "Madame?"

Scarlett smiled softly. "Your sister, she seemed to be in great distress, not the menus offerings I hope?"

"Sadly no, the dinner company."

Scarlett laughed "Mister Butler, for shame; terrifying young girls. You'll lead the gathered company to think your fellow Americans all delight in the tourmenting of young girls."

Rhett stood and meet her eye to eye. He deliberately bowed gracefully, but pointedly. "Madame Robiliard. What a pleasure to see you once again. I found my rooms to be delightful; I did so appreciate your personal attention in relation to my comfort. DO you take such pains with all your guests?"

Scarlett smiled. "Only when they are special guests, you being one of my own country men."

Sir John took the opportunity to interrupt before they came to blows. "My sister is a high spirited young lady, unfortunately I am more than a bit set in my bachelor ways and I am a very poor companion to her."

Scarlett nodded "Younger sisters can be a trial, I myself have two. I do think you'll find that she'll one day be the best friend you could ever hope for."

It was Rhett's turn to laugh out loud. "Is that what happened with your sister Madame Robiliard?"

"No, one became a nun and the other remains a shrew. But I would hardly be a good sister had I initially included that information. Now gentlemen, please continue dinner, I will go and fetch Lettie back to supper."

"Thank you Madame..."

"Please Sir John, call me Scarlett."

Scarlett nodded and hurried off. Both sat back down.

Sir John placed his napkin back in his lap and picked up his fork before addressing Rhett. "So exactly how long were you and Madame Robiliard married?"

Rhett sipped his port thoughtfully "I can honestly say that I have never been married to a woman named Robiliard."

John nodded and swallowed the chicken he'd been chewing on during Rhett's statement. "Really, then what did Scarlett call herself when you were married?"

"Scarlett Butler, what else would she call herself?" asked Rhett while signaling the waiter for more port.


	5. Chapter 5

Sir John placed his napkin back in his lap and picked up his fork before addressing Rhett. "So exactly how long were you and Madame Robiliard married?"

Rhett sipped his port thoughtfully "I can honestly say that I have never been married to a woman named Robiliard."

John nodded and swallowed the chicken he'd been chewing on during Rhett's statement. "Really, then what did Scarlett call herself when you were married?"

"Scarlett Butler, what else would she call herself?" asked Rhett while signaling the waiter for more port.

"I assume you two are...?"

"You can say the word John, divorced. We are, for almost 2 years now. It was what you would call mutual in the end."

"You've never remarried?"

"I almost did, but in the end we didn't suit."

Lettie sat down in the palm sitting room, a cool ivory room that the Prince used to showcase the Indian floras that his family had brought back from India over the past half century. There were large wicker armchairs and settees with down filled rust colored cushions. Lettie had picked an armchair that was partially concealed by ivory drapes trimmed with rust brown velvet fret work.

"Lettie?" called Scarlett softly.

Lettie stiffened at the sound of Scarlett's voice, terrified. She had made a spectacle of herself running out of dinner, now her hostess had come to seek her out probably to ask her to leave.

"Yes," replied Lettie.

Scarlett approached her. "What happened?"

"I'm terribly sorry if I made a scene," apologized Lettie.

"You British and your scenes, I'm worried about you. What happened, you left the dining room like a cat on fire?"

"My brother was angry with me. I was monopolizing the conversation. I was discussing things that were not appropriate for the dinner table. He told me to stop. I took exception and fled. I embarrassed myself."

"So you ran out of the room over that?"

"I know you mightn't understand that, I know my brother tries but he gets annoyed so quickly and I don't ever stop when I should."

"I know what it's like to need to run away but sooner or later you have to go back and face your fears," said Scarlett, offering Lettie her hand.  
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Sir John tried not to show his surprise at Rhett's nonchalant revelations.

"How long were you and Scarlett married?"

"Almost six years. Then we were divorced. It was for the best."

"Rhett, I've know you nearly fifteen years and you never mentioned you were married."

Rhett laughed. "You met my daughter, didn't you assume I was married?"

"No because you suggested she didn't have a mother, I thought that perhaps she was the daughter of one of your mistresses."

Rhett laughed "Sorry to disappoint you John."

"Where you already divorced when you came over last time?"

Rhett lost his air of jesting. "No, When we lost Bonnie I had to step away from myself and truly look at my marriage. I realized that the woman I had wanted and the woman I had married simply weren't the same. Without our child there was nothing to tie us to one another."

"I'm sorry."

"So was I though I don't think Scarlett would believe me, she wanted me to try again and I simply wasn't willing to risk my heart again."

"Did you risk it the first time?"

Rhett's lips drew together into a thin line at the sound of her voice.

Sir John rose to his feet and took Lettie's hand.

"Lettie, I..."

"No John, it's my fault. I do appreciate everything you've done since father died. I don't mean to say half of what I say."

John turned to Scarlett and taking her hand he lifted it to his lips. "Your Servant Madame."

Scarlett dropped into a graceful curtsy "And I yours Sir John."

John nodded. "Please if you'll excuse us, I should like to go speak with my sister."

Lettie curtsied to Rhett and impishly leaned forward to kiss Scarlett's cheek. "Thank you."

Scarlett smiled "You're most certainly welcome."

She watched them walk arm and arm across the ballroom.

"If you'll excuse me Mr. Butler."

"Since when have you ever needed my permission for anything my pet."

"Please don't call me that, not here."

"Exactly how much of our conversation did you just overhear?"

"Why, not a thing."

"Then why comment on the conversation?"

"Why Mister Butler," simpered Scarlett in her best shocked southern belle tones, "Surely you weren't referring to little ole me when you spoke of risking your heart." She narrowed her eyes involuntarily "TO do that you'd have to have one."

She turned and without so much as a backward glance made her way back to her seat next to the Prince of England.


	6. Chapter 6

Just to point out before anyone gets on the history train Albert did have children I am just bumping their dates of birth to a later date. If I can re-write Scarlett what's alittle thing like the British Royal Family.

"I'd wondered where you'd gone. I'd hoped you would make something of that heated exchange I just witnessed."

"No, I think that I shall just have to brave out the rest of the week till we bid Mr. Butler a fond adieu."

"What about the bebe?"

"You're her father, that is the only truth the world ever need know."

"Scarlett, you may one day have to answer questions for your child as to who here father is and more importantly where he is? What then?"

"I'll worry about that when the time comes, if I spend every minute worrying about what will come I won't be able to enjoy what I already have."

"But you love him."

"I also love Strawberry Trifle but I'm not willing to throw away my sanity and self respect for it."

"Be serious."

"I am. You are my child's father, the only one that matters to her. She loves you and so do I."

Bertie took her hands in his and after clasping them together kissed them gently, in a gesture that had nothing to do with showmanship. "I wish that so much could be different, for you, for me, for us."

Scarlett was so intent on their conversation she hadn't noticed Rhett leave his seat and his subsequent approach to the dais where her table was.

"I've never heard you talk like this, don't Bertie, please. There is no changing, no going back, just ever forward."

"I do love you, as best I can."

Rhett turned and walked away from the picture the Prince and the woman that he...how did the Prince really feel about Scarlett. Perhaps before the week was out he would be able to answer that question.

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After dinner began the entertainments. British house parties were long elaborate affairs. Masque's, parlor games, and of course recitals. The ladies would play the piano or harp. Some would recite pieces of poetry. Scarlett would have to perform several times on the piano, arrange games, and divide the guests into teams for charades, which were extravagant dumb shows using costumes, props, and settings.

They would hunt and shoot during the day. The prince had secured a boar for a pig hunt at the end of the week. Tomorrow was a fox hunt in the morning to be followed by an early lunch in the Marble and granite pavilion at the edge of the great lawn. The afternoon would be a time for naps, bathing, and for the Prince and the gentleman he hoped to make business alliances with to confer.

It was painfully long and drawn out, but necessary. The Prince needed these people, the nobles and the new men. The British Royal family had lost a good deal of their political pull in the last 150 years. Bertie was determined to slowly draw power back to the crown. Hence the Ton would have to leave at weeks end overwhelmed by a blend of pleasure and hospitality.

The rest of the evening seemed to drag on for hours. Scarlett had wished Bertie a good evening at around 1 A.M. She had politely begun to direct the Prince's guests upstairs by commenting that their maids and valets had been dispatched to their rooms to help them prepare for bed. The foxhunt would be early in the morning so many of the guests were grateful to make their final bows to the Prince and bid him a pleasant night. The Prince bid her goodnight by kissing not one but both of her hands, slow and sensual with her palms facing up. Scarlett flushed with what the assembly took to be excitement but what was in fact embarrassment. Though she enjoyed the Prince's attention as well as the protection and privilege of being his closest companion, she found it disconcerting that Rhett was here tonight and might think that she was another man's mistress. The Prince leaned forward and brushing her ear with his lips whispered if she would be so good as to have a tray sent to his formal study so that he and Lord Robert could closet themselves for the rest of the evening.

Scarlett entered her rooms. The fire had been well laid and still burned brightly, illuminating the room. Distorted shadows danced on the walls. Before the fire Renee her ladies maid dozed on a settee. Scarlett smiled faintly. Renee was no Mammy, but at the same time she was no Prissy. She was neat, organized, and non-intrusive. She knew about Bess and was fairly sure that the Prince was not the father of her Mistress' child, however; she kept her opinions to herself.

"Renee."

"Madame", Renee got to her feet gracefully but quickly. She colored a dull red at having been caught at ease by Scarlett.

"Good evening."

Renee bobbed a curtsey. "Good Evening Madame. How was your evening?"

"Fine, very uneventful."

Renee began to unbutton the silk covered black buttons on the back of Scarlett's dress. There were 30 of them each button looped through a loop of jet cording. The buttons were slick and required much of Renee's concentration.

"Renee?"

"Yes Madame," replied Renee distractedly as she freed each button.

"Anything worth hearing?"

"Madame?"

Scarlett smiled though Renee could not see it. "Gossip, everyone knows that those under stairs know everything that happens at a house party. Sometimes before it happens."

Renee sighed. She loved to gossip with Madame who would leak small tidbits of gossip to Renee who would in turn nonchalantly mention it downstairs. The other servants were always slightly in awe of Renee's connection to the Quality. Some of the other house servants ventured the opinion that Madame could not be considered Quality. She was not noble or even European. She was American and clearly the Mistress of the Prince of Wales. Renee defended Scarlett like a Pit-bull with its only pup. Scarlett had been overwhelmingly kind. She always inquired after Renee's family and her health. She was patient and never raised her voice. Scarlett was a lady, whether she had a title of not.

"They say there's a terribly handsome American here, a guest of John Morland's. It's been suggested that Madame knows the gentleman."

Scarlett nodded. "I was acquainted with him, in America. He was a houseguest at my nearest neighbor's engagement party. Although I hadn't seen Rhett in some time."

"They say he's not married."

"Who are they?"

"Ah, Mister O'Reilly that'd be Sir Morland's valet who is also acting as valet to Mr. Butler, that's the American's name isn't it?"

"It is."

"There's also talk that Princess Alexandra is talking about residing with the Prince."

"In the same house?" questioned Scarlett.

"Yes Madame. Some of her staff has said she'll go as far as appealing to the House of Lords to order Prince Albert to do his duty by her. She wants a child."

Scarlett was quiet, deep in thought. Alexandra hated her. She had at least been able to hold her head high when it was whispered that the Prince preferred men. Then at least the fault in their union lay squarely on his shoulders. But ever since Scarlett's arrival and the birth of Bess rumors flew. That the Prince simply wasn't attracted to Alexandra, the whey faced Norwegian. That the Prince loved his Mistress and that he was laying the foundation of a plan to annual Alexandra and send her back to Norway. She was already 32 and still a virgin. Albert had never touched her so that in case of an annulment he could sight the marriage not being consummated as grounds. Alexandra may have thought of taking a lover; that Scarlett could not say for sure. Albert said that she really couldn't because then she'd be ruined and if he could prove he wasn't the one to deflower her then Alexandra would be a ruined Princess. A ruined Princess was simply not a valuable commodity on the international marriage market.

Was Alexandra a threat to Scarlett's secure position, perhaps. But Scarlett wasn't going to dwell on the implied threat of Alexandra's plans. Whatever happened she knew that as long as she had Bess she'd be happy.

"Renee, the peach silk china gown if you please."

Renee's lips pursed ever so slightly. She was both amused and scandalized by Scarlett's nightgowns. The style of nightgown Scarlett favored hadn't been in fashion since the 1820's. Scarlett had seen the style displayed on a mannequin in Petticoat Lane while riding in Bertie's carriage near the end of her pregnancy. Petticoat Lane was London's used clothing district. She had been so taken with the form of the gown. So simple and comfortable. It had tiny puffed sleeves and a gathered neckline that could be loosened or tightened with a bit of silk ribbon. It had a low neckline that would be ideal when she was nursing. This time no matter what she intended to nurse her child herself. No wet nurse would nourish her child. Scarlett intended to experience everything that came with motherhood even the simple act of giving her child substance.

She'd adored the style of it and told Bertie so. He asked if she wanted the gown but Scarlett shrugged daintily. Love the gown though she did the idea of wearing a used piece of clothing was slightly repulsive to Scarlett. A week and a half later Albert presented her with several large bow bedecked boxes.

"A present for moi?"

"Oui vous méritez un cadeaux." (Yes you deserve a present.)

Suddenly Scarlett was transported back to the time during the war when Rhett would come with presents for her. Her eyes began to tear a little but she swallowed her sadness.

Bertie took her hand. "You are safe, you and your child are well, and you have a friend. Whatever there was before can no longer be. Let go of it Scarlett. Let go of the past and live in the present."

"You are a wise man."

"I'm also a generous one. Open your boxes and tell me if I picked well."

Scarlett gifted him with a luminous grin and tore into the first box. It was a lilac colored gown. It took her only a second to recognize it as the twin of the dress she'd seen in the shop window a few weeks earlier. "Bertie?" she questioned.

"I bought the gown you fancied and had a dressmaker take it apart to make a pattern. From there she made you a dozen of the same style."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She proceeded to open the others, marveling at the variety of fabrics and hues of the various dresses dress "Bertie, they are wonderful. I love them al."

"Your maid is going to find them awfully out of date."

"I don't care, they are all beautiful and I adore them.

"Madame, which dressing gown will you have?"

She shook her head as though in an attempt to bring herself back to the here and now. Scarlett considered for an instant. Then she laughed, as if it mattered what she wore. No one saw her in her nightclothes save Renee and Bertie. And neither one was going to be enticed by Scarlett's state of dishabille.

As soon as she was in her night attire Scarlett dismissed Renee. She walked into the Nursery that had once been the room's dressing room. She missed Bess desperately, but Bertie didn't like having Bess in the house when there were large crowds of people. He worried about Bess's safety as well as the possibility of someone later recognizing Bess as his 'daughter'. As soon as their guests left on Saturday they would ride for Osborne House where Bess had a nursery fit for an Empress. Saturday couldn't come soon enough. Rhett would be gone and she could breathe easy again. Gently she closed the nursery's door.

Stopping at the bar cart in the next room Scarlett poured herself a small ladylike glass of port and settled herself at her desk in her half of the study she shared with Bertie.

She lifted the corner of the tooled leather blotter that covered her Louis the XIV ladies writing desk and removed a small silver key with Italian scroll work accenting it's top. Bertie had bought the desk for her as a spur of the moment goodwill gift and she'd treasured it ever since. From the locked bottom drawer she removed a heavy maroon leather volume. Her journal before her she recorded the details of the night. How she felt that morning seeing Rhett again after so long. Most of her entries were brief. The journal had been Bertie's suggestion. Indeed he'd bought her the beautiful leather volume that she recorded her thoughts in most nights. He'd told her that it might help her come to terms with the demise of her marriage to Rhett and Ella's passing.

"Will you offer me a nightcap Scarlett?"

Scarlett let out a small cry, dropping the glass of port to the ground. It shattered into a million shards, each glinting wetly in the glow of the fire.

"Rhett, damn it. What on earth are you doing here?"

Rhett had crossed the room in just a few of his ground devouring strides. "Careful there's glass everywhere."

"Because you startled me." She began to stand, mentally preparing herself for one of their verbal sparring matches.

"Wait, you aren't wearing slippers. I'd rather not spend the remainder of the evening withdrawing splinters of glass from your dainty feet."

Scarlett closed her journal before Rhett could draw close enough to read the contents of her soul.

"Book keeping?"

"If I didn't keep track of spending Bertie's servants would bleed him dry."

"I see," With that Rhett bent slightly at the knees and wrapped his arms around her waist lifting her from her seat intending to lift her clear of the broken glass.

Scarlett wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her. She offered no resistance to his embrace.

"Since I assume you came through my bedroom to find me here no doubt you know where my bed is?"

"Is that an invitation?"

Scarlett smiled "Invitation to what? I merely hoped you'd bring me to my bed, my feet are cold and no doubt so is the floor."

"How evasive, so very French."

"Merci."

Rhett stood Scarlett on the floor, letting her slid down his entire length on the way. "I see I'm not the only one with cold feet," Scarlett taunted softly.

"What is it precisely that I am supposed to be afraid of?"

"Afraid? Rhett Butler afraid of little ole me? You're right, why that's laughable"

"Where is your Prince Charming?"

"Most likely downstairs, why?"

"Just curious I suppose." His hand continued to rest in the small of her back. His hand was warm but through her nightgown Scarlett felt as though her skin was being scorched.

"If I told you that I still want you, what would you say?"

Rhett's lips curved into a small smile without a trace of scorn. His next words were quiet and full of meaning "Just your name." With those words Rhett lowered his lips to Scarlett's as he pulled her flush against his body.


	7. Chapter 7

Scarlett wrapped her arms around Rhett's neck holding him close. He held her tight one arm around her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck. He had her in his arms again and nothing would ever take her from him again.

"God damn it Scarlett, you'll never believe..." Price Albert came to a halt in the doorway leading from the shared study to Scarlett's suite of rooms.

"Bertie," Scarlett pushed herself away from Rhett a rosy blush began to infuse her cheeks.

"I wasn't aware you were entertaining," Bertie bowed from the waist, "My most humble apologies."

Scarlett moved forward to catch his arm. "Bertie, please."

Albert winked at her quickly. She caught it and nodded slightly. "Really," he bent forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, "It will keep till morning."

With that he nodded to Rhett. "Mr.?"

Rhett just as formally replied "Butler, your highness."

"Do you hunt Mr. Butler?"

"Not for some time your highness."

"Join us tomorrow then, Scarlett can show you to the stables, she'll find you a...mount. Again good evening both of you." Bertie turned and without another word left them both closing the door softly but firmly behind him.

"Please Rhett, perhaps you should just go." Scarlett looked at the door regretfully.

Rhett caught her by the upper arm and pulled Scarlett towards him, forcing her to face him. "I will not just go. If I ask you a simple question will you, for once in our misbegotten lives together give me an answer that rings of the truth."

"I don't feel like answering any questions, not tonight..."

"You will, for the love of God what is it that you are to him? Are you his mistress, his friend, his employee? Will you answer me?"

Scarlett wrenched her arm from his grip. "Why should I answer that, for you of all people. Why don't you answer my questions for a change, how is your beloved little wife? How many perfect Charleston brats do you have? Why are you here to confuse everything?" She didn't wait for an answer; instead she made strides across the room towards the drape alcove containing her bed.

He was behind her before she could move more than a few steps. He turned her to face him, before she could protest he covered her mouth with his. He was swift and forceful, his tongue probing the interior of her wet, hot mouth.

Scarlett acted without thinking entwining her arms around his neck, meeting his desire with the full passion of the longing she'd felt for him over the last 18 months.

His right hand was wrapped around her waist holding her tight against his growing arousal, his large left hand cupping her buttock, searing her flesh with it's heat.

"Come to my room," Rhett whispered as he moved his lips down the smooth length of her neck.

Scarlett moaned as he nipped her on the exposed rise of her left breast. "No, here, it's fine..."Her whispered assent ended in a small groan as his lips fastened on her nipple.

"Your Prince?" Rhett mocked softly as he stood to face her. He still held her but he wanted her to agree, to voice her consent fully so that later...later she could not claim that she was an unwilling participant.

"Bertie is several rooms away from here and I am my own person, I'll give myself where and to whom I choose."

Rhett decided to push her no further; instead he swept her up into his arms and brought her into the dimly lit bed alcove.

He laid her on the bed before lying down beside her. Lying face to face for the first time in nearly two years would be daunting to more timid souls than Scarlett and Rhett. Instead, the two former lovers studied the changes that time had wrought. Scarlett gently stretched out her hand to trace the grey hair that colored much more of his temples than when they'd last lay together.

Rhett laughed gently as he caught her inquisitive hand within the grasp of his own. "I'm getting old."

Scarlett laughed "Hardly."

"Yet you on the other hand, you haven't changed a whit since the first time I saw you at Twelve Oaks."

Scarlett's expression grew serious "Don't say that, I know I've changed."

Rhett's expression grew solemn to match Scarlett's "You have, haven't you?" 

Scarlett moved closer till her body pressed against his, "I suppose that will remain to be seen."

Rhett smiled "I suppose so."

The bedroom was faintly lit by the last embers of the fire that Scarlett's maid had laid earlier that evening...a lifetime ago in Scarlett's opinion.

They lay in her bed face to face for the first time in years. True they had made love several times that night on the beach after the storm, but previous to that they hadn't shared a bed since shortly after Bonnie had been born.

"Are you sure Scarlett, sure that this is..."

Scarlett leaned forward and kissed Rhett wrapping her arms around his neck as he rolled on top of her. Their clothes having been discarded in a hasty fashion when they'd made their way to her bed. Scarlett had thought that in a natural progression nudity would lead to lovemaking, but instead they had simply lain in her monstrously large bed talking and laughing softly.

But now...

Rhett met her kisses with his own, heavy with a passion that threatened to overwhelm his firm control. The control that he'd always held over himself when it came to Scarlett was dissolving into pure heat.

He wanted her, wanted her as badly as he had that first night in New Orleans. He could still remember watching her take off her wrapper as she had gotten into his bed. He had bought her with his ill-gotten gains and he was determined to keep her no matter what.

But he hadn't been strong enough to face the emotions she'd triggered in him while living together as man and wife. He told himself that he didn't need her, that it had all been for Bonnie. But now being with her like this once more he knew that it had all been lies. The passing years hadn't diminished the need he felt for her, in fact it felt as though it had intensified.

She was under him, willing and she wanted him. Her body betrayed her emotions and he would use them to claim her, for once and for always.

His mouth slowly trailed from her lips to the base of her throat where her pulse beat hard and steady against his tracing tongue. She moaned again and again as the growing sensations threatened to overtake her. Her moans vibrated in her throat and his tongue felt those as well. He continued down till his insistent mouth fastened onto her right nipple. Scarlett thrashed beneath him as his teeth grazed that sensitive nub of flesh tipping her breast. Her elegant long fingered hands twined in his thick black hair, holding his head tight against her breast. Scarlett's cries grew louder and louder filling the bedroom.

"Please, Rhett, please, now, now," Scarlett cried, her legs wrapping around his waist as Rhett.

Rhett's deep laughter welled up in his chest as he kissed her once again.

"Do you want me," Rhett asked whispering against her ear.

"Yes," moaned Scarlett as her arms wrapped around his neck bring his lips even closer to her ear. His whispered words making her squire and shudder beneath him.

"Tell me how much," he whispered.

Scarlett had dreamed of this moment again and again for far to long to allow Rhett his little ego stroke, so being a woman of action she took some now.

Her left hand traced down his back, her fingernails grazing him just on the threshold between pain and pleasure. Once her hand reached his waist she traced lazy circles before she moved it between them catching his member in her hand. Rhett's breath caught in his throat as she rubbed the pad of her thumb in slow circles against its head mimicking the earlier circles on his back.

He braced himself on the flats of his palms watching the rose flush that colored Scarlett's face as she felt his cock firmly pressing against the flat of her palm.

Scarlett laughed at the glisten of sweat that beaded on his forehead as he tried to once again regain control of their lovemaking.

"How much do I want you, why don't you show me how much you want me?" she challenged smugly.

That was the final break between Rhett and control. He drove himself into her slick, tight passage. Scarlett cried out in a voice that was tight with ecstasy at his invasion. She'd known no other man since the day that she'd pledged herself to him in front of the justice of the peace. She'd longed for him, hated him, dreamed of him, and now like a dream come to erotic reality here he finally was.


	8. Chapter 8

The morning found Rhett and Scarlett's exhausted bodies still entwined under the rich velvet canopy of her bed.

Rhett traced the perfect oval of Scarlett's face with the tip of his ring finger. She sighed softly, content.

"Happy?" Rhett asked truly wanting to know where they stood.

Scarlett laughed as she sat up cradling the sheet around her nude body. "Happy but woefully busy. You need to leave before the maids come."

Clearly those were not the words Rhett had wanted to hear from her. His face composed itself into its usual composed mask.

"Please Rhett, last night was wonderful, but I have duties to attend to."

Rhett got out of bed and began to gather his clothes. "Do you mind if I get dressed first or would that interfere with your schedule?"

"Rhett, please don't play the wounded party. I am not banishing you from my bedroom for all time"

"You've asked me to leave it before."

Scarlett stretched luxuriously. "I'd just rather not have my maid find a handsome, virile," she looked him up and down before smiling fondly, "half naked man in my bed chamber."

Rhett however was not to be pacified. "Yes, I suppose that would be awkward for the Prince of England's mistress."

"She's not my mistress," replied a voice for the doorway.

Scarlett closed her eyes and pulled the sheet over her head "Mary, mother of God," she moaned, her voice muffled by the covers.

"Scarlett, breakfast is in the sitting room if you're joining me. Mr. Butler, if you'd care to join us you're most welcome."

With that Bertie turned and left the two lovers to their own devices.

"Well, that was definitely unexpected," commented Rhett as he buttoned his shirt.

Scarlett pulled the sheet down to face Rhett. "You think this is pretty amusing don't you? This is my home. The Prince is my friend and I would have preferred he didn't witness this."

"I offered to take you to my room, now perhaps you'll make my apologies to the Prince. I think I'll pass on breakfast and go change for the hunt."

Rhett bowed and left her alone to groan and fall back on the pillows. Once again they were right back to where they'd started.

A few minutes later wearing her nightgown and a dressing gown Scarlett joined Bertie in their small sitting room. "Coffee?"

Scarlett nodded as she sat next to him on the settee. Bertie poured her a cup. "Milk?"

"No, it's a black sort of morning."

Bertie smiled "Really, it looked as though it had started out so well."

"Men are fools."

"I've heard that said."

"Rhett took a simple request and turned it into a huge fuss."

"Alexandra wants to have a child or have our marriage annulled."

Scarlett picked up her cup. "I'd heard a rumor to that effect. All of the servants are atwitter about her going so far as to propose to drag the House of Lords into your marriage." Taking a small sip of the bitter black coffee Scarlett voiced her thoughts aloud. "But for her to propose an anullment? Why after all this time?"

"In her letter she says that our marriage must be consummated at my earliest convince as she is desirous of providing the crown with legal issue. She closes with a rebuke saying that if I could give my whore a child, the least I could do is give her and the British people an heir."

"You have a whore, oh for shame Bertie, since when do we keep secrets from one another."

"You know very well who she means."

"What will you do?"

"I've no idea; this after all could be my one chance at freedom. I could send her back to Norway. I suppose this depends on your future plans."

"Mine?"

"If you are planning to stay in England than I can allow her to annul the marriage with very little fuss. People will suspect I am a silly lovesick fool. They'll look at Bess and think that I couldn't bear to make love to a woman who didn't have my heart. You are a widow, American, and a Catholic so no fear in anyone trying to compel us to marry."

"Last night doesn't matter Bertie. No matter how I feel about Rhett he is married and no amount of pillow talk will change that."

"He could divorce his current wife?"

"No he couldn't, she'd be ruined. He was her first husband. She lost her virginity to him so if he divorced her she'd most likely never be able to remarry. He wouldn't condemn a perfect Charleston lady to that fate. He'd never do that just for me. Even if he really did love me."

"For Bess then?"

"He can never know Bertie. No one can know who her father is, I'm a horrible person I know I am but I don't care, I don't."

Bertie took her coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the table before gathering her tightly to him.

Tears began to pool in Scarlett's eyes though she desperately tried to hold them back. "I just don't understand, why couldn't he realize he still wanted me before he married Anne, oh Bertie it isn't fair." She could no longer restrain her tears; they began to spill down her face. These were not the calculated tears of Scarlett O'Hara employed to met an end. These were the tears of a woman whose heart was broken and could never be mended.

Bertie kissed the top of her head, leaving his chin to rest on the crown of her head.

"Darling, shh, hush, no one will ever know. You know that I've never judged you. Nothing you do makes me think poorly of you. I'll keep your secrets till the day I die." He began to stroke her back as her body shuddered in his arms.

Bertie tried to think of anything that might illicit a small smile.

"I'll love you always, no matter whom you sleep with."

Those were the same words of support Scarlett had once offered Bertie when he'd confessed to her his own particular prédilection for the titled men of his own class. At first Scarlett had been shocked. Never in her life had she heard of men engaging in such pursuits. On closer scrutiny though Scarlett realized something valid and freeing. Who was she really to sit in moral judgment of anyone? Her own list of sins against the society in which she'd been raised were lengthy and in the eyes of most people completely damning. She didn't understand his feelings, but she could accept them as part of her closest friend.

She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him close gathering strength from being loved so purely. She took heart knowing that Bertie loved her for herself, not simply her face or body. To be loved for one's soul no matter how tarnished was what hurt most in losing Melly. "I love you so much Bertie."

"And I love you."

Thinking to come back and apologize to Scarlett for taking her earlier request so harshly Rhett had returned to Scarlett's bedroom. Her bed was empty and cool. Rhett grinned roguishly at the memory of last night. Perhaps he should have slowly courted her. He had so much to say to her that falling into bed might not have been their wisest option, but after wanting her for so long he hadn't been able to steel his resolve towards conversation and a few chaste embraces. He'd waited to hear her say she wanted him for what seemed like an aeon. Hearing voices from the study Rhett surmised that Scarlett was still at breakfast with the Prince.

He prepared to enter the breakfast room deciding to make his apologies to the Prince for his dismissive attitude earlier that morning. If Prince Albert was so important to Scarlett Rhett wanted to be on personable terms with the man.

Rhett hesitated at the door to the study, which was still ajar from Scarlett's earlier entrance. Though he considered eavesdropping to be a very poor habit in other people was not occasionally above doing so himself. Rhett could hear Scarlett exclaim something but it was the Prince's response that froze him in the shadows.

"I'll love you always, no matter whom you sleep with."

Rhett though he considered eavesdropping to be a very poor habit in other people was not occasionally above doing so himself.

After hearing them declare their love for one another his face a settled into a hard mask tinged with anger. Nothing changed, especially not Scarlett O'Hara. He walked quickly through her bedroom startling Renee who'd been straightening Scarlett's bed in the curtained alcove. He was so focused on his anger Rhett didn't even notice the observant maid as he exited Scarlett's rooms.  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rhett slammed the door to his bedchamber. He ripped open the wardrobe doors and began to pull out his clothes in armfuls, not giving a damn whether he wrinkled the expensive fabrics that made up his wardrobe. 

Her words to the Prince pounded in his head again and again echoing "I love you...I love you..."

"Bitch," he muttered as he tossed his clothes on the bed.

"What is it you once told me about eavesdroppers, something about highly informative things?"

Rhett spun on his heel to face Scarlett. She was dressed in the traditional British hunting attire of the white chambray shirt, tight fitted red velvet jacket, and a black broad cloth skirt with only a few petticoats layered beneath for proprieties sake. The skirt was a simple cut but it flattered Scarlett. The whole outfit suited her.

Rhett sneered, ignoring her jab about eavesdropping. "Going to ride the hounds?"

"I am, I believe his grace invited you as well."

Rhett's lips drew together in a sardonic smile. "Thank you, but I've already mounted something from his stable."

Scarlett smiled tightly. "Why Rhett Butler, you're jealous. You overheard something that quite honestly was none of your business, then you twisted it into an acceptable version of the truth according to your lowest expectations of me."

"My only expectation is to constantly find you in the arms of other men."

"I've told you what it was between Ashley and I that day at the mill."

"No I don't really think you did, and it's too late now isn't it. May I ask though, what was last night, a last intimacy for old times sake?"

"I love you. I want you. At night I can't sleep because I remember what it was like to lie in the dark next to you knowing that for the first time since before the war I was safe. No one could hurt me, no one except you..." Her eyes were wide and the color of emeralds as she poured out her soul to him. For once he'd have all the facts even if it exposed her heart to more pain.

"Scarlett you don't know what you want," he replied

She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. He had to listen; she had to make him understand, even if they never saw one another again. She needed him to understand her, even if just for this one moment in their lives together.

"I wanted to be with the man I love one last time. I wanted last night because it has to last me the rest of my life." She could see him trying to lock her out. He didn't want to hear her. Scarlett finally lost control. She wasn't the one who'd married someone else. Just who did Rhett Butler think he was to berate her?

"Where do you find the nerve anyway to accuse me of loving another man? Don't you love your perfect Charleston wife?" Scarlett yelled, letting go of his sleeve. Her face was flushed and her eyes were narrowed with anger.

"For the love of God, why do you continue to insist I'm married? To whom am I supposedly locked in wedded bliss with?" Suddenly it came to him. "Anne? I never married Anne." He laughed without humor at the predicament they'd once again found themselves in. "And if I did I'd be committing bigamy, I never filed our divorce papers. Legally and in the eyes of God and Man for all intents and purposes you and I are still married."

Scarlett's mouth opened and closed but she could not find words. Not one single word. Her lungs felt as though they'd been dipped in burning oil. The air was simply knocked out of her body. Her body was too heavy to support and she pitched forward, and the world went dark.


	9. Chapter 9

_There is a word that appears in this chapter that people want to argue. Many people assume the word to have been coined recently. That is not the case. There is a further paragraph defending its use at the end._

"Scarlett? Scarlett? Can you hear me?"

Scarlett opened her eyes slowly, her head pounding. She was lying on a bed that certainly wasn't hers. "I think I fainted."

Rhett smiled faintly despite himself. "I know you fainted. You aren't...?"

She looked up at him, genuinely confused. "Aren't what?"

He decided to take the direct path. "The only time I've ever seen you faint was when you were carrying Bonnie." He looked into her eyes, fearing her response, but needing to know. "Are you having a baby?"

Scarlett gingerly sat up on the bed before she began to laugh, hard. She couldn't help it; he was so serious. Since leaving Charleston she'd lived a life of celibacy except for last night when she'd slept with her ex...not her ex. Her nearly hysterical laughter began to subside and she forced a deep breath.

Scarlett smiled at him sheepishly "Not unless I'm having your child, but it's a little early to tell yet."

"What about the prince?"

She could no longer resist a sarcastic comment. "I doubt he's having your child."

Rhett frowned before taking her shoulders in his massive hands. "Be serious, I want to know, have you been sleeping with him?"

She was nearly sarcastic again, but something in his expression caught her. Scarlett who could never read Rhett finally had an insight to him and she clung to it. "Bertie has been my savior, my friend, and the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. He isn't my lover. We've shared a bed, but innocently. We've fallen asleep reading poems, discussing upcoming balls; he comforted me when I'd cry for you. I love you, I have never stopped."

Rhett could see what that honest admission had cost her. Scarlett was trying to be honest with him. The very least he owed her was the same level of honesty. He seated himself next to her on the bed slightly turned toward her so they were face to face. He'd leapt to a conclusion earlier when hearing Scarlett and Prince Albert. Now he wanted them to honestly know everything there was to know before making any decisions.

"My sister lied to you, when she wrote you in Paris. I didn't marry Anne. I considered it. I won't deny it to you. We were going to marry. I wasn't sure though. I missed you; I went to the house in Atlanta only to find it was an orphanage. Very generous and I liked the name, a great deal."

Scarlett smiled back. She'd donated the house on Peachtree Street to a Catholic charity looking to establish an orphanage and school for poor children. There was only one stipulation she'd made. The building had to be known as The Melanie Hamilton Wilkes Children's Home. If the name was ever, and she had it in writing, changed the home would be donated to a trust that would reopen it as a children's home bearing the name of her only female friend.

"I thought you'd be pleased. At least someone is getting some joy out of that monstrosity of a house."

Rhett laughed, "I'm wounded, that house was built with a good deal of ill gotten gains."

She reached up one hand and stroked his face, gently. "But it was also built with the best of intentions."

He caught her hand in his and kissed the palm. "I suppose so. But I digress. Anne began to change; it was subtle at first. After you'd left she became a constant fixture in my mother's house. She and Rosemary were thick as thieves. She was constantly coddling me, discussing books that I'd read, talking oh so wistfully of the children she dreamed of having. I was convinced that was what I wanted. A gentle, giving, Charleston lady."

"You thought you'd found your own Melly?" asked Scarlett quietly.

"Yes, I suppose I thought I had." Rhett's face visibly hardened "But I was wrong. Anne burned the note you'd left for mama with your itinerary. She was getting something for mama and she saw it in the study. She read it, then took it on herself to protect me from myself by burning it."

Scarlett's eyes flashed dangerously. Her voice was a soft purr. "That whey faced little ninny."

He laughed at her gently. Not mocking, just amused. "No elegant French phrases calling down the rage of the gods."

"Not right now. I would like to give her a good hard slap at a later date."

He laughed, "Ah the real Miss O'Hara has joined us."

She reminded him primly. "According to you I am still Mrs. Rhett Butler."

"And so you are. I was furious; you left after I told you to." He put his pointer and index fingers under her chin and tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes. "Since when did you ever done what I've told you to. I let Anne convince me I needed to move on. I had the divorce papers drawn up and sent to Henry Hamilton. I thought I've hurt her once and for all."

"Rhett please…"

He gently put a finger across her lips. "I did want to hurt you. I suppose I did believe that you loved me and I knew that I loved you and I hurt so why shouldn't you?"

"I'm sorry..."

"I appreciate that but please let me finish this bad Greek tragedy. I began to court Anne, not very passionately, but I was done with extreme emotion. I just wanted to have some peace. Then one night Dr. Kiley came to my mother's house.

"I don't remember a Dr. Kiley."

"He volunteered at the Children's Home that my mother and sister oversee. Tall, washed out complexion, condescending."

"Maybe," replied Scarlett thoughtfully.

It isn't important. Anne had been attacked in her home. It was a Yankee solider, the peeping tom."

Scarlet was bemused "But wasn't that a young man that you took under your wing. His name escapes me."

"Tommy. I was at West Point with his brother. Anne didn't know though that I knew who the peeping tom was. I thought she was confused though, she claimed she'd been raped."

"Rhett, I hate her but my God how awful..."

Rhett interrupted her determined to finish. "I told her we'd keep it a secret. She moved into my mother's house because after all people knew that her home had been broken into and my mother and sister were there as chaperones. I didn't want to compromise her." He sighed softly thinking of Ella. "I never got your telegram. I suppose Anne saw a sick child as a threat or perhaps Rosemary had a hand in it. I actually can't say if it was Rosemary or Anne who wrote you in Paris saying I had married. Then just as we were within weeks of marrying I received the divorce papers. Or rather I received a denial of divorce by the state of Georgia. I had bribed a great many people but that only bought me a divorce in my home state, not yours. Because you still owned property in Georgia, your state of birth, it didn't matter that you had resided in Charleston with me as my wife. I didn't take that into account."

"Anne must have been distraught."

"I had to find you to ask you to sign the divorce papers, but I didn't know where you were. I made the mistake of telling Anne that. Anne exploded. She must have been on edge hoping to avoid discovery. She screamed that you were in France, that I still loved you, that the divorce papers were an excuse. She was crazed. She told us that you'd left a detailed plan for the first weeks after you'd left mama's house."

Scarlett frowned. "She must have read the telegram. I only told your mother I was going to Atlanta, then Tara, and then to Boston to settle Wade at Harvard. I was terrified you'd find me in France. I only sent you the telegram because Ella was..." Scarlett couldn't go on.

"Don't, I understand. Then Anne collapsed; she was bleeding. Dr. Kiley rushed over to my mother's house. Anne had miscarried, she was dying, or so we all thought. In that moment of drama Dr. Kiley declared that he loved her, he wasn't sorry they'd had an affair. The good Doctor was married, Anne was never attacked, she was nearly two months along when she told me she'd been attacked. The good Doctor and Anne staged the whole gruesome affair of the attack and assault. If the divorce papers had been filed, I would have married Anne and then when I found out about the baby I would have raised it as my own to keep from seeing Anne ruined."

"Oh Rhett, I don't know what to say. You never deserved what I put you through and you certainly didn't deserve Anne did."

"In Anne's favor though it woke me up from the cocoon I'd built around my emotions in Charleston. I loved you; I wanted to be with you. I just had to find you and somehow fix years of damage."

"But you said that it was just fate that brought you here to Halverston House."

"It was fate, in the guise of Sir John Morland. I went to Atlanta thinking to find you there. I contacted Henry Hamilton who refused to tell me your whereabouts. However he had a letter for me that the nuns had sent over from the Peachtree Street House. Henry said he was going to forward the letter to my lawyers but since I was already there I should have it. It was an invitation to join Sir John Morland for a hunt in England at a friend's home."

Scarlett laughed "And his friend just happened to be the future king of England? It seems that fate has once again flung us together despite all our best efforts to be apart."

"How romantic, you've been reading romance novels again?"

"Hardly."

"So here I am, I find the woman I love is the supposed mistress of a future king. For your average woman that is certainly a lofty career goal."

"For the last time he is just my friend. The Prince has certain urges that without a wife might endanger his future on the throne."

"The Prince has a wife."

"Not one he can bring himself to sleep with."

"Scarlett, you're in you ever subtle cylindrical way telling me that the heir to the British throne is..."

Scarlett nodded "A sexual deviant, an abomination in the eyes of God and man, or a homosexual. Take your choice when it comes to the title you chose to apply to him. I myself call him Bertie, but that's me."

"So all this time you've been his blind."

"Gambling terminology, how very Rhett. I've missed you."

_Concerning the word homosexual, it's a tricky word. Oddly, no term existed for "homosexuality" in ancient Greece - there were only a variety of expressions referring to specific homosexual roles. Experts find this baffling, as the old Greek culture regarded male/male love in the highest regard. According to several linguists, the English physician Maria Benkert did not coin the word "homosexual" until 1869. Since this story takes place around 1880 or so the word would have been around in England for almost 20 years. _

_Although I took a great deal of liberties with this story, and if you don't know British monarchs for 200 Alex you don't even have to read this story with a suspended sense of disbelief lol. _

Homosexual actually has been an entry in the Webster's dictionary since 1872. (Lesbian gained entry lol my little joke in the 1890 addition) I took a words within the language class in college my favorite was  
Fked Up was entered in 1951  
Fck in 1759  
and bull dyke in 1932


	10. Chapter 10

_**I hope you are all enjoying my story. I love writing it. Review and show me love. C.O.A, Ava, Anon, Lady; you all rock. I am an praise whore and it doth my ego good to find sweet words of love. It's either 5 more or 10 more chapters, depends on where I decide to end this story.**_

_**Opinions?**_

"You've missed me?"

Scarlett laughed, "Of course I've missed you." She waited for a similar admission but one wasn't immediately forthcoming. "Didn't you miss me?"

Rhett smiled "You've missed what I said, alas I've laid bare my soul and she does not hear." Rhett stood up and taking Scarlett's hands in his own he pulled her to her feet. "I love you. I would think missing you would be implied."

Scarlett stepped forward till they were nearly toe-to-toe, not touching but close. "I've done something, something that at the time was perfectly logical but now, with the truth being so neatly laid out before us I'm not sure you'll love me..."

Rhett wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the top of her head. He inhaled the scent of her, rosewater and a faint smell of powder. "I've waited nearly two years to hold you again, to know that you were safe. I prayed, once I'd come to my senses that you weren't lost to me forever. There is nothing you'd tell me that would turn me away."

Scarlett took a deep breath; she had to tell him about Bess. If she didn't he'd find out and then what. He'd hate her so much if he learned from someone else that they had a child together. She had to take the leap of faith, faith that the love they had could hold out against the magnitude of what she'd done.

There was a gentle rap on the door. "Madame? Are you in there?"

Rhett lifted his chin from the top of her head and Called out. "There's no one here by that name." He looked down at Scarlett and brushed a lock of hair back from her face. "Who the devil is that?"

Scarlett dissolved into giggles. "That's Lord Robert."

"Isn't that splendid for him."

"Rhett, please we'll talk later. I have to go downstairs. Bertie is expecting me and they're probably holding the hunt for me." She smiled brightly "Come with me though and then we can talk later." She wriggled away from him gently brushing up against him several times. She was completely oblivious to the response she was inciting from Rhett.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her into an embrace. "I think that we should talk now." Rhett lowered his lips to her throat and whispered, "I think we should spend the rest of the morning talking."

Scarlett blushed at the implications Rhett was able to place on the word 'talk'. "I have to go." She pushed him away.

"I wish you'd stay."

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. He kissed her back, gently. "I know you'll need time to adjust. I think we both will."

"I'm sorry that we've wasted so much time."

"You didn't waste it. You've grown up. The beautiful girl I've loved for so long has become a stunning woman and it will be a pleasure getting to know her." He lifted her hand to his lips. "Mon coeur appartient à vous loyalement demoiselle." (My heart belongs to you fair maiden.)

"Very pretty Monsieur Butler."

Rhett nodded. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "You are in my blood."

"I've missed you Rhett, very much."

He smiled. "Have a good ride Mrs. Butler."

Scarlett smiled "Thank you Mr. Butler."

He walked her to the bedroom door. "Will I see you today?"

Delaying the inevitable confrontation Scarlett reached into her pocket and withdrew her riding gloves. "I'll send for you once the hunt's over."

"Very well." Rhett clicked his heels together and bowed over her hand before gracing it with a light kiss.

"You'd make a wonderful courtier Mr. Butler."

Rhett just smiled and closed the door behind her.

Scarlett descended the back stairs to the stable. Her head was spinning. Rhett loved her. She loved him, and was finally willing to admit it. Her heart was so full of him she felt it would burst. She had to tell him about Bess.

Good God. He'd be furious. How could he not be? She'd kept his child from him because she hated him for not wanting her when she finally realized she loved him. She'd also been afraid of him. What if he had decided to take her child, the first of her children she'd loved from the instant she'd learned she was pregnant?

Rhett loved her, at present. That could change. Rhett loved when it was on his terms. Upon hearing of how she'd kept him from his daughter Rhett could react several ways.

He might take it well. He would of course be disappointed that he'd missed nearly the first year of her life, but love for Scarlett would cause him to forgive her. Scarlett laughed aloud. He would be furious; she knew that. No matter how many other scenarios she tried to dream up the truth remained clear. Rhett would rant and rave about how she'd cheated him out of something precious. A new chance and a second chance to be a father.

"Scarlett?"

She let out a small, involuntary scream. "Lord Robert," she gasped.

Lord Robert Winchale bowed. "Prince Albert requested me to give you his most sincere regrets. He postponed the start time for as long as he could but he assumed you might be otherwise engaged."

Scarlett nodded. "I was involved in something."

"Or with someone."

She grimaced at the directness of his statement "How much about my past has Bertie told you?"

"Not much," he smiled "He did tell me that Bess's papa was in fact alive and well. I must say Scarlett you are no end of surprises."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"Why not confide in me Scarlett? Unburden your soul as it were. You'd find me to be a good listener."

"My soul is quite carefree, but I thank you for the offer my Lord."

Lord Robert frowned "Why won't you call me Robert?"

"It wouldn't be proper. After all you're an Earl and I'm simply a friend of the Prince."

"We're both his friends, shouldn't you and I also become friends?"

She lowered her voice trying to insure they wouldn't be overheard. "We can't be friends because quite honestly you make my skin crawl. There is something about you that is less than wholesome."

Throwing back his hear Lord Robert laughed heartily. "You are so painfully honest Scarlett. If I am so unwholesome why haven't you tried to encourage the Prince to turn his back on me?"

"Because if he turned his back on you, you'd probably plunge a knife into it." Having had more than enough of Lord Robert Scarlett curtsied and moved to continue down the stairs.

As fast as a striking cobra Lord Robert took hold of her upper arm. He thrust her against the wall. She refused to show him fear. Instead she composed her features into the most radiantly haughty French expression of ennui and simply stood there in his iron grasp waiting.

He leaned close, his breath stirring her hair. "What is it about you that stirs the Prince to such violent loyalty. He won't hear a word against you. Won't share any of your secrets, not even with me. " He reached up and stroked back some errant locks of hair from her face. The gesture was a mockery of the gentle way Rhett had performed the same task just a little while before in his rooms.

"Get your hands off of me," said Scarlett softly. There was no fear in her tone.

He ignored her. "What is it about you? You didn't answer me. It isn't your face and your body that keeps the Prince entranced, though you are very beautiful. He speaks of you constantly. He adores your daughter. Perhaps I do see the attraction that lies within you, after all you provide him with a complete family. A baby and her lovely mother. He does use you though, doesn't he. Parades you about as though to proclaim, see my pretty mistress who bore my bastard. How could I not be a dashing, handsome, virile lover? Look to my whore for proof of my manhood"

Scarlett was determined not to show this weasel any sign of the fear that was churning within her. She'd never liked Lord Robert and had vaguely suggested several times to the Prince that Lord Robert wasn't an especially nice person. The Prince unfortunately was attracted to Lord Robert and that attraction overruled his normally keen judgment.

"Take your God Damn hands off of her."


	11. Chapter 11

"Bertie," Scarlett breathed deeply.

Lord Robert immediately released Scarlett and firmly pushed her away. He bowed to the Prince "Your Highness, what are you doing here?"

"Precisely what I should ask you? Scarlett?"

Scarlett moved quickly past Lord Robert to stand with Bertie. Prince Albert looked down at her "Are you alright?"

Scarlett nodded, not trusting herself to keep her voice firm and fearless.

Prince Albert leveled his gaze on Lord Robert. "I demand to know what exactly what's been going on here?"

Lord Robert begun to lie smoothly "Scarlett and I were just having a disagreement that escalated into a heated exchange. Although, "he laughed casually, "With a woman as beautiful as Scarlett I'm sure most exchanges become…passionate."

The Prince's lips curved into a small smile. "So just now when you called Scarlett a whore, was that meant to be a complement?"

"Your Highness, surely you are taking what I said out of context. I was merely saying that…"

"You were merely saying that I allow Scarlett to pose as my mistress so that I can avoid copulating with the shrew I've been condemned to spend my life with?"

"No Your Highness, I…"

"Leave Lord Winchale, you are no longer welcome in my home. I expect you to arrange to be gone before luncheon."

"But…"

"If it would not create an even bigger scandal than the one I'm currently embroiled in with Alexandra I would thrash you within an inch of your life."

Lord Robert smirked "Your Highness with all due respect, in a fair fight odds are I would…"

"Who said anything about fair odds," the Prince turned slightly, "Gentleman?"

Almost instantly four of the Prince's Guard appeared at the bottom of the short bottom flight of stairs and the quickly climbed the stairs to form a square around the Prince and Scarlett. "Would three of you please accompany Lord Winchale to his rooms. He will regretfully be taking leave of us much sooner than he'd intended. One of you please inform my Master of the Horse to have Lord Winchale's carriage made ready to depart."

"For God sake Albert, we're friends. We've been for sometime. You're going to shut me out of your life for Madame Scarlett. All for this sweet faced whore?"

Despite his earlier stance on not causing an incident Albert now lunged forward toward Lord Robert.

"Bertie," screamed Scarlett

Two of the guards held the Prince back. "Please your Highness, he isn't worth it."

"Lord Robert, you've made an enemy. Bear that in mind if you ever contemplate coming to me for anything."

Lord Robert smirked and bowed slightly. "Good Morning Your Highness, Madame." He turned and walked up the back stairs accompanied by the Guards, leaving Scarlett and the Prince together on the landing.

"Scarlett, what on earth was that about?"

Scarlett shook her head. "I haven't a clue. He appeared out of no where to tell me you'd already left for the hunt, then he started to say how he and I should become good friends for your sake." She began to shake involuntarily.

The Prince wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her and gently he urged her up the stairs.

When they reached her suite Scarlett unfastened her jacket and nearly ripped it from her body. She flung her hunting Pinks, as her Red jacket was called, across the room. She walked over to her sitting area in front of the fire and sat down. Bending forward she began to unfasten her Lobb Riding Boots. They were fine, waterproof black calfskin that Bertie's sister Princess Helena had bought for her as a Twelfth Night Present the year before. She normally treasured them, as John Lobb was the exclusive supplier of boots to the Royal Family. Now how ever the laces wouldn't come undone and Scarlett wrenched at them franticly.

"Scarlett, stop, for the love of God let me do it." The Prince knelt before her and took her foot in his hands. Carefully he began to untangle and unlace her boot. "I'm sorry."

Scarlett shook her head. "You couldn't have known that Lord Winchale was such a buffoon."

"No excuse. I trusted him, unfortunately in hindsight I now suspect that I liked him so damned much because of his pretty manners and the occasional witty quip."

"What's done is done and he'll be gone by this afternoon."

Scarlett stretched her arms over her head, and then winced slightly. She unbuttoned the cuff on her shirt and gingerly rolled up her sleeve. "Enfer D'Oh (Oh Hell)."

"Scarlett, you're hurt."

She shook her head. "No, it certainly stings though. It's a bruise, it will go away."

"This is my fault."

"Bertie, you needn't play the martyr. This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

He sat beside her and she leaned on him. "What is the worst thing that's ever happened to you?"

Scarlett closed her eyes. "Growing any older than sixteen."

"What a morbid thing to say."

"I don't mean I wished I'd died, it's just everything was simpler. All that was expected of me was to look pretty, catch a husband, and …" She trailed off thoughtfully.

"And what?"

"And I'm being ridiculous. Even before I married Charles and the war came I was always…waiting for something or I suppose someone."

"Your Rhett Butler?"

"I suppose Rhett was a big part of what I was waiting for. I suspect I was waiting to grow up. Here I am now and I scarcely recognize myself. I'm not the Lady my mother wanted me to be. I'm not gracious; I'm often rude and callous. I tend to be selfish and but I've learned to put Bess first because she matters. I'm learning to be Wade's friend because I fear that it may be too late for me to be a real mother to him. My friend, his Aunt Melanie, was more of a mother to him than I ever was."

"You are his mother in the fullest sense of the word. I've seen you antagonize over the presents you select for him. You've sat for hours writing brilliant letters to him. You make sure his tuition is paid and he has money in his pockets. Scarlett you are a wonderful mother and so much more"

"I'm Katie Scarlett O'Hara," she smiled fondly, "Butler. Finally that's enough."


	12. Chapter 12

_Mrs.ScarlettButler gave me the biggest laugh of my day In the Danish Language the word Slut translates to The End, ahahahha That tickles me._

_Thank you to all who have stuck with me so far. I hope you are enjoying the ride. This one is a short chapter with a bitch of a cliffhanger lol aren't they all._

There was a rapping on the door. Scarlett rolled her eyes to the heavens. "What now." She raised her voice so as to be heard. "Entré s'il vous plaît." (Enter Please)

Renee bobbed a curtsey. Even though she was Scarlett's servant protocol demanded she speak to the Prince. "Good Afternoon your highness."

"Renee, Good Afternoon." The Prince stood up. "If you'll excuse me Scarlett I'm going to catch up on some correspondence…"

She caught his elbow. "Liar." She smiled at him fondly. "You have a tea tray in your room and you don't want to share. I'm crushed."

The Prince of Wales laughed. "Be that way, if you like you may join me in the study for a pastry or two."

"A pastry or two, how generous."

"I'm the heir to the crown, I must keep up my strength. It's likely to be a long wait."

Though Bertie was found of his mother he longed to be King and that looked unlikely to be the case anytime in the near future. Only last week Bertie has overheard a particularly cruel but accurate lampoon circling the elated circles of the Ton. "How is the Queen like the weather?" asked the wags. The response was cutting "Because she reigns rains, and reigns, and reigns... and never gives the poor son Sun a chance."

"Bertie," she began cautiously. This was such a sore subject with him that she wished only to approach it carefully. The last thing she wanted was to wound him even further.

He kissed her forehead. "Join me when you're done." He left through the connecting door into their study.i

Scarlett took a breath and smiled slightly at Renee. "I'm sorry Renee, what's the matter?"

Renee looked flushed and guilty. Crossing the room to stand before Scarlett; she never took her eyes off the door the Prince had just departed through. There were two hectic blotch of red coloring her cheeks. Had they not been so involved in conversation Bertie couldn't't have failed to notice how nervous Renee looked.

"Renee? Renee, what have you done?"

"Oh Madame, I've done something awful."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rhett folded the last of his letters to Charleston and sealed it in an envelope. His sister was still furious at him, at Anne, but most importantly and undeservedly at Scarlett. She felt that Scarlett's hold over Rhett was dangerous. She wanted her brother to move on with his life, without Scarlett. She wanted many things and Rhett, while he felt badly that Rosemary was so upset, simply could not live his life for her. Rosemary had been Anne's accomplice in many respects but even she'd been unaware that Anne had been with child. The best he could do right now was to write Rosemary and tell her that he'd located Scarlett and unless he was sure that she'd receive the kind of welcome that benefited her status as his wife that it might be a long time before he returned to Charleston.

He knew that would hurt Rosemary. It wasn't his intent to hurt his sister but she had to know where he was at this point in his life. He finally had won the love of the woman that he'd sought for the last twelve years.

To finally be able to admit that he loved her made him feel reborn. He'd loved her for so long. He'd watched her make a fool of herself over the Honorable Ashley Wilkes. The part that rankled in the Ashley Wilkes Affair was that he was so un deserving of her. Scarlett would have cut out her own heart for Ashley but that never seemed to move him. From the moment she threw that vase in the library at Twelve Oaks Rhett had known that he had to have her. It wasn't her appearance that drew him in. Scarlett was beautiful, but he'd known woman who were just as beautiful. It was her spirit, the way she supported the people who depended on her, the way she felt when…" Rhett laughed aloud. Whenever he tried to list all of Scarlett's non physical attributes her physical qualities came unbidden to mind.

The knock on the door brought Rhett to his feet almost immediately. He'd heard the hounds baying for the last two hours and it pleased him to know that Scarlett was most likely at the forefront of the riders taking fences and hedges like a champion.

He checked his watch and found it to be past noon. Hopefully at the door he'd find that Scarlett had returned from the hunt and was now summoning him. He'd have to be on his guard. She would have him jumping through hoops in a months time if he wasn't careful.

Rhett opened the door only to find a gentleman standing on the other side. He checked his annoyance at it not being a message from Scarlett and instead allowed that smooth bland look his feature so often wore to pass across his face.

The man at the door was agitated and unsure of himself. Rhett was a good several inches taller, forcing the man to have to look up at Rhett. Already Rhett sensed that the gentleman was resentful of him, he was a the moment only unsure as to why.

"Yes?" inquired Rhett.

"My name is Lord Robert Winchale."

"Yes…and?" Rhett replied.

This complete dismissal only further aggravated Lord Robert. "I was here earlier looking for Scarlett."

Rhett frowned upon hearing Scarlett's given name come from the lips of a man who appeared to be slightly mad. Thus far in the past two days Scarlett was nearly always referred to as Madame Robiliard or The Lady. No other words were needed to convey the fact the Prince's female companion was being discussed. For this man to call her Scarlett was a definite indicator of something suspect.

"As I said there was no one here by that name."

"Really, so the Prince's whore wasn't here in your room."

Exercising a calm that was beyond the reach of many men Rhett willed his hands against clenching into fists. There was a method to Lord Robert's madness and Rhett was determined to discover it.

"The Prince's Whore? And that is who?"

Lord Robert smirked. "Madame Scarlett Robillard. Don't you know her by that name?" He lifted his coat and withdrew a beautiful leather journal. He opened it to the title page and read the name that Scarlett had inscribed in it nearly a year before. "I suppose though you are familiar with a Katie Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler."

"What do you want?"

"Only to provide you with some light reading material." Lord Robert bowed. "Please excuse me, I have a carriage waiting for me." He held out the journal to Rhett, who though he desperately wanted to refuse, reluctantly accepted the journal.


	13. Chapter 13

The ticking of the clock in Scarlett's main room was echoing in Scarlett head keeping time with the pounding of her heart. She slowly stood to face Renee who refused to meet her piercing stare. The color drained from Scarlett's normally pale features till she was the same color as bleached ivory.

"Renee, for the love of God what could you have done. Just tell me, please."

Renee licked her lips anxiously. "Lord Robert was here earlier, while I was making up your bed and straightening up."

"When?"

"Over an hour ago."

Scarlett closed her eyes willing the throbbing in her head to cease. "What did he want?"

"He needed the key to your study and I…"

"Scarlett!" the Prince yelled.

"Oh God," Scarlett moaned softly before hurrying into the study she shared with the Prince. She found him studying the splintered remains of the bottom drawer of her delicate writing desk. It was immediately apparent that someone had taken one of the heavy brass candlesticks from the mantle and repeatedly brought it down on the drawer till it splintered and gave way. The offending candlestick lay discarded just to the left of the desk.

The Prince was flabbergasted by the amount of damage done to an almost priceless piece of furniture "Scarlett, what was in your bottom drawer?" Then the recollection of the only item Scarlett attached enough significance to that she kept locked up no matter where they were staying came immediately to his mind. "Rhett?" he questioned no bothering to clarify what item he meant.

She shook her head "No, Lord Robert convinced Renee to unlock the door to the study so he could enter through my rooms. I suppose he couldn't slip through your rooms as easily."

"I've never asked you before, but Scarlett, what do you write about?"

"Everything," her voice took on a panicked tone, "we need to find Lord Robert and my journal."

He kissed her quickly on the cheekand spoke to her, trying desperately to sound far more assured than he really felt. "I'm going to take several of the men of my guard who I trust. We'll find his carriage and I will get back that journal."

"Bertie, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. No one stopped Lord Robert because I'd made sure he'd always be allowed into the wing I'm quartered in. This only happened because I was a fool, you were just an innocent bystander."

He smiled at her and she tried to return it but failed. Bertie left without another world leaving Scarlett alone with the ruined desk and her rising feelings of panic. This was all her fault, no matter what Bertie said. What had ever possessed her to write down everything that had happened over the last year and a half? Bertie had bought her that journal to help her cope with her feelings on the loss of Ella and the dissolution of her marriage to Rhett. She had written about that, at first. But as the year had passed she'd written about her feelings toward Bertie and how it was safe to love him and be loved in return because he could truly love her like a brother with no alter motives.

Looking back on the remembrances of some of her entries Scarlett's stomach tightened violently. She'd written about Bertie's feelings toward men, she'd written about Bess and the fact she was Rhett's daughter and not Bertie's. She'd written about pretending to be a widow living under a different name. If that journal were delivered into the wrong hands she would have to flee England with Bess. More than that Bertie would never sit on the Throne of Britain if the truth about his predispositions were discovered. She could have single-handedly, with one slim volume of conversations and revelations destroyed herself and brought down the British monarchy.

The chiming of the clock momentarily caught her frantic attention. It was only 1 o'clock; Lord Robert couldn't have left more than an hour before. He would have had to pack his things and have them brought downstairs. That alone could have taken at least a half an hour. Really how much of a head start could Lord Robert really have over Bertie? Bertie was on horseback and he was one of the most avid hunters in Europe, he sat a horse better than nearly any man. He'd find Lord Robert; he just had to.

An hour earlier

Rhett closed the door behind the arrogant bastard who'd thrust the leather book into his reluctant hands. Absently he traced the raised tooling on the leather cover of the book. He wanted to think, that despite the image he project to the world at large, he was above reading what was obviously something private belonging to Scarlett.

But perhaps if he just paged through it he couldbetter understand what Scarlett had been through in the last two years. She was so different. Now she was more self-assured and poised around him. She wore a mantle of sadness about her that was nearly visible. She was a woman now; he could no longer taunt her with remarks about her childishness. She'd proven that she could stand on her own in any situation and make a life for herself and he wanted to know about the path that had lead her to that point.

Hating himself for this lapse in judgment Rhett sat on the sofa in front of the fire and opened to the interior cover page of the book. There in Scarlett's meticulous copperplate hand was her full, very full, name. Katie Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler. Below her name was the date a little over a year and a half before.

Felling guilty but determined none the less, Rhett opened the journal to the first page and began to read.

"_Well I never thought to find myself where I am right now. It's only beena week and a half since I first arrived in London with the Princess Helena and met her brother Prince Albert. That is who gifted me with this book. I've had this book for nearly three days but it was only tonight that I worked up the gumption to face these hundreds of empty pages and put to paper the story of how I came to be here. Five days ago I sat in the garden at Richmond, just thinking, missing Ella and Bonnie and Wade and of course Rhett._

_Always Rhett._

_The Prince of Wales found me, to my extreme embarrassment with tears running down my face. I admit at first we had had little to say to one another. I, the friend and pet project of his numerous sisters' and he the heir to the British throne. He was a gentleman though and gave me his handkerchief, which only caused me to cry even harder. All I could think of was something Rhett said to me when he left me in the house in Atlanta "Here, take my handkerchief. Never, at any crisis of your life, have I known you to have a handkerchief."_

Rhett sighed, he remembered being angry with her because she had come home to find him leaving. For a single moment he thought that she finally understood him when she'd said something that summed up the emotions he'd been feeling. He'd told her that he realized the life he'd lived as a young man in Charleston had a value to it that he'd simply never seen till he was much older. Scarlett had looked up her eyes wide and misty from tears and said "It had a glamour to it--a perfection, a symmetry like Grecian art." He had been shocked. It was exactly the sentiment he'd been searching for. Could it be that he'd misjudged her, perhaps he'd been wrong? "Yes that's exactly what I meant, where did you hear that." And from her mouth came the words that drove the final nail "It was something Ashley said once." He'd shrugged and looked away "Ashley, always Ashley."

After that he knew there really was no other way but to leave Atlanta. With the hindsight that comes through time and distance Rhett could finally admit to himself that he couldn't stay in Atlanta after Melanie Wilkes died. He knew that deep, deep within him he did still love Scarlett and had he stayed in Atlanta he could not have stood Ashley Wilkes clinging to his wife's skirts being helpless. Rhett would have shot Ashley Wilkes or Scarlett, or both of them and then himself.

Picking up the journal he continued to read.

_Poor Albert I was crying and he is not a man whose comfortable with tears. He held me awkwardly and finally said "What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you." I told him that I had no idea, that so many horrible things had happened in the last ten year that I couldn't find one single thing to put my finger on." He smiled and told me that from now on he was going to ask me that question till I could isolate one particular thing. He did succeed in stopping my tears. Instead I was angry, angry that this virtual stranger was going to bait me whenever he felt like it._

_I told him I was none of his concern and he nodded. Finally he asked if I'd like to know the worst thing that had ever happened to him. I shrugged and he took that as a yes. I lost track of time, we sat on that bench together till night came and the moon was high. He told me about the death of his father and the blame that his mother laid on him. He told me about his wife, whom he did not love and spent much of his time avoiding. He told me about himself._

_I told him about Ella, how she'd accused me of failing her as she died. _

_Damn Rhett, how could I know that he wouldn't come. I promised her that Rhett would come because I believed in his words to me when he told me that he loved Wade and Ella and would do anything for them. One day I hope to stand face to face with him and tell him that. She died asking for him. No matter how much progress I'd made winning her heart she wanted Rhett. Why couldn't he forget for a moment how much he hated me. She told me that I had never loved her. That I had never loved her father. She told me the only people ever to love her were Melanie and her Uncle Rhett. Then she told me that even Uncle Rhett hadn't really loved her or he would have come. She even told me that maybe it was because Uncle Rhett was made that Bonnie had died and Ella hadn't. The Doctor told me it was the fever driving her to say those things. _

_I know better. _

_I always dismissed Ella as foolish and flighty. But she knew I never loved Frank. I never mentioned him to her, I had nothing to say about him because to me he hadn't been worth remembering. I only spoke kindly of Charles to Wade because of Melanie._

_Why did Ella have to die? Why did God take two children who never harmed anyone? Why did the baby I miscarried have to die? Why not me? Why? I miss Ella and it cuts my heart and I cry and can't stop when I open the trunks that contain her clothes. Now I see why Rhett locked Bonnie's room. Now I see why he wanted to strangle me when I suggested giving away her things. Now I see and it's all too late. I can never tell Rhett that I finally understand a small part of what he felt._

Rhett placed the book face down and stared into the dancing flames of the fire. Scarlett really had grown up. When he'd seen her the day he'd arrived she had only told him that she had written him and telegraphed him about Ella. She told him that Ella had wanted to see him, but that was all. She could have hurt him deeply with details of Ella's last words and how disappointed she'd been when he hadn't come. Scarlett could have wounded him and been well within her rights to do so, but didn't.

She loved him and hadn't wanted to hurt him. She had been willing to keep all of the pain of losing Ella to herself rather than burden him. The guilt at reading her private thoughts was now complete.


	14. Chapter 14

Ok Excited shout outs to the following

Smart Lady you rock, COA you are an excellent fan, Athena Wiley, rish, usagi-pao, XcrossingjordanX I appreciate the support. Anon give us a name I love that your reading, romanticfan welcome to the party, POS hope your still on the edge of your keyboard, ScarlettH amazing story? You make me blush :D, AVA still reading? Chime in we miss ya:D. HA you are the greatest thanks for all the mail

To the others who have emailed me I say a big thank you. I really love being able to share my work with you all, I hope you all continue to enjoy my work, if it starts to suck everyone throw shoes :D

Rhett closed the book. No matter how badly he wished to read the rest of her journal, he simply couldn't. He'd abandoned her when she had needed him most. He'd left behind Wade and Ella who had counted on him to be their father. In Ella's case he had been the only father she had ever known. Even if he had been angry with Scarlett, that was no excuse.

In the short span of a year those children had seen their mother have a miscarriage and become so ill they'd thought she would die, their small sister had broken her neck, and then their rock; their Aunt Melanie died. Then to compound all of that pain contained in their small bodies their stepfather had turned his back on their mother and walked away.

Poor Scarlett was convinced Wade hated her, but Rhett suspected that wasn't the case. Wade had always regarded his mother as a sort of goddess to be feared and worshipped, kept always at a distance. The boy might be upset with Scarlett's decisions, but if Rhett had to guess where the bulk of Wade's anger was directed he was inclined to think it might be at his arrogant stepfather.

Then there was Ella. He could hardly stand that. Ella had died thinking that he hadn't loved her as much as Bonnie. Whether that was true or not he should never have let something like that show. He'd loved Bonnie so much because she was so like Scarlett whose heart he could never reach. But Ella, she had been his little girl. Frank Kennedy's daughter that was true, she was. But who had been her father, indeed the only one she'd ever known. Rhett could feel his chest tighten; he had loved her too.

He could recall when Scarlett had been pregnant with her and later when he had returned to see Scarlett she had been absently holding Ella in her arms on the front steps. The first time he held Ella he could see that, though she had Frank Kennedy's coloring, she had Scarlett's nose and the same strawberry colored lips. Instead he'd told her the baby looked just like Frank, knowing that's what she would want to hear. What a lie, she was Scarlett with ginger hair and hazel eyes. Her features and laugh were all Scarlett. He looked down at the journal. How could he continue to read Scarlett's thoughts? If she wanted him to know anything surely she'd tell him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scarlett paced. She did it because she could no longer sit still and pray that Bertie retrieved her journal. 'As God as my witness, if Bertie can retrieve that damned book, I'll burn it.' But she knew that was completely true. How could she burn that book? It would be like destroying a piece of herself. That journal had helped her see the errors and stumbling blocks that had littered her life. Through writing and reflecting she saw, with regret, that so many of the tragedies of her life could have been so easily avoided.

The most poignant piece of regret was Ashley Wilkes. Ashley was a childhood dream. She should have been able to place him on the shelf of abandoned childhood hopes and fantasies. When he had come to call on her that afternoon at Tara she had been a child, overwhelmed by a longing for the imagined. The sun slanting through the dogwood trees framing the house had provided Ashley with a golden halo, glinting off his blond head. She could still recall the boredom of that lazy late spring day. Her mother had a Frenchwoman coming from Alpharetta the following day to instruct her daughters in floral arranging. The hour prior to Ashley's arrival she had been brought so low as to resort to picking flowers for her lesson just to pass the time.

Scarlett had a small bouquet of the aforementioned flowers still in her lap as she sat on the front porch of Tara. Nearly 15 years later she could still recall that it was a bouquet of jack in the pulpit, pink ladies slippers, wild lily of the valley, and forget me not. Ashley had smiled at the picture she presented and spoke some lines.

"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember."

She had smiled at hearing the word love. That was what mattered most because she found herself suddenly and wildly in love with Ashley Wilkes.

Scarlett frowned at the memory. She had carried those lines engraved on her heart for years. She had known that they must have been from a poem or book that Ashley had read but she had never had a context for them. She had only taken them at face value, a line about flowers and love.

One night when she had been unable to sleep she had ventured into the library to ask Bertie if he knew where the line was from. He indeed had, it was after all written by a national British institution. He told her the overview of Hamlet. Scarlett's curiosity was peaked enough that she asked to see a copy of the play. To her extreme embarrassment she realized love was not the emotion, but instead the person to which Ophelia was referring. Once again she'd misunderstood Ashley Wilkes. Since then she'd read all of Shakespeare's comedies and Bertie had taken her to Stratford on the Avon in April for the Shakespearean Fair. They'd seen The Merry Wives of Windsor, which made her laugh. The other play they had seen was Much Ado about nothing, which though it made her laugh, reminded her of Rhett.

She sent books by the dozens to Wade and Beau. Scarlett was although pleased at the fact that she had slowly become a very well read woman. No one, she added subconsciously Rhett, could ever mock her ignorance again. She didn't enjoy all of what she read but she had become more willing to give each work a chance. Some she put down unfinished, others she devoured and sent to Wade with some little note jotted at the end. He read everything she sent and responded. At first the responses were terse and abrupt. But as the last few months had gone by he had shared his opinions on the books she sent. Finally last month he had sent her a book, The Three Musketeers in French. He had said he enjoyed it very much and hoped that she would like it too. She had read every page, touched that her son finally recognized that she was trying to build a bridge between them.

She wondered if Wade saw a connection between the daring do in the novel and the exploits of Rhett. She had only been to America once in the last year and that was to introduce Wade to Elizabeth Victoria. Wade at first had been horrified that she was keeping Bess from Rhett. No matter how much he hated Rhett he still thought it was wrong for a man not to know his child. They had argued quietly while Bess slept in the next room.

Finally Wade acknowledged that Rhett had taken Bonnie away from Scarlett and perhaps he would try to take Elizabeth. Wade never called her Bess; he thought the name sounded common. Scarlett could see that Wade was slowly coming around to her way of thinking. Wade had lost Bonnie and Ella. He lost Melanie and Rhett. He was done with losing the people he cared about. If his mother believed it was best for Elizabeth to be a secret, then so be it. But, he'd warned her that one day there might be a day of reckoning and it might very well be unpleasant.

Scarlett cringed. The days of reckoning might have very well arrived. If the journal reached the press every detail would come out. Lord Robert would obviously give the journal to whoever could do the most damage with it… Her breath caught in her throat. RHETT.

She'd been with Rhett when Lord Robert had first been looking for her. Maybe he hadn't been looking for her, perhaps he had instead been checking to see if she was with Rhett. What if he had stolen the journal before accosting her in the stairwell?

Her eyes closed trying to recall every detail of the encounter. Then it came to her. Lord Robert was normally the most fastidious of dressers. Every piece of clothing starched and wrinkle free. Every item on his body was the epitome of fashion. What was it that was straining to come to the surface of her thoughts, something that had been off about Lord Robert's appearance? There had been something inside his coat that broke the normally smooth contours of his coat. Was it something rectangular and thick? Her journal. He already had her journal when he'd confronted her. He had been at Rhett's room. What if the journal hadn't left the estate with Lord Robert? What if he'd given to Rhett?

The thought exploded in her brain, Rhett had the journal. Lord Robert had given the journal where it would do the most damage. Rhett, who would not rest till he took his daughter back. Rhett, who now had the ammunition to take Bess. Perhaps Lord Robert had thought that Rhett would blackmail her with the journal, thus removing her from the Prince's life. Without Scarlett in the way Lord Robert could further insinuate himself into the Prince's life.

Disregarding the fact that she had no shoes and her shirtsleeves were undone, Scarlett darted out the study door leading to her own rooms. She had to reach Rhett's room before it was too late.

Rhett had gotten up several times fully intending to go to Scarlett's rooms and return her journal. Each time he had gotten just as far as the door to the hall when he'd reconsider and sit back down. Finally he surrendered to curiosity and reopened her journal.

I have now fully been entrusted to Prince Albert's care. He has asked me to travel with him till we tire of one another. Thus far we are the greatest of friends and find the arrangement suits us both. The books from many of his estates were in need of an analytical touch. Slowly I've been sorting them out. Prince Albert says he is forever in my debt as he is sure he was being robbed blind. He was. He offered me a title this New Year's Day. He was sure he could convince his mother to gift me with an Irish title. I politely declined. What would pa say to the idea of his Katie Scarlett being titled? Ha, I know what he'd say and none of it complimentary. Instead I told him we would simply refer to me as Madame, the French word for Mrs.

It was too late now, Rhett would read on and pay the piper later. He had to know what she'd been feeling and thinking. He wanted to know her better. Later he would simply return the journal to her and perhaps deny reading anything past her name. After all one little white lie wouldn't hurt their newfound trust. In fact it would be the right thing to do. Scarlett wouldn't have to know that part of his new found understanding of her came from her own words.

_Last night Prince Albert took me to a recitation by Francis Turner Palgrave. She is gathering together the poems of John Keats for publication as one large volume. I am, unfortunately, not overly familiar with Keats or any poet for that matter. Or so I thought. The first half dozen poems were fine enough, though I wasn't feeling as fit as I would have liked. My stomach is lately in revolt and I find it difficult to sit as my ribs and back are aching. Then Miss Palgrave invited a gentleman to the front of the assembly to read the next poem. She apologized but said that it was truly a poem that must be read by a man as her voice could simply not do it justice…or some such nonsense. _

_Then he began to recite and I realized that though I know nothing of poetry, I knew the poem. It was a piece that Rhett had read to me one night from a book he'd bought to send to his sister. _

_We were in New Orleans and I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned and finally Rhett jokingly swore at me and told me this is the bed I'd made so would I please sleep in it. I apologized and reluctantly told him what was on my mind. I was simply anxious about where we would live. I was worried about Ella who would never know her father and Wade losing another father. _

_I felt strange sharing my worries with Rhett but he was so easy to talk to how could I not. He rose from bed only to return moments later with a parcel that he unwrapped, tossing the brown paper to the side of the bed._

_Rhett lit a candle and paged through the book till he found what it was he was looking for. He didn't bother to tell me the author, probably realizing I wouldn't care. The words were haunting and many of the elegant phrases stayed with me._

Rhett's brow crinkled in thought. He tried to recall what the poem was that had so caught Scarlett's attention all those years ago. The book was easy, it was an anthology of Romance Poets. He thought his sister Rosemary would enjoy it. Finally the poem he'd read to her aloud rose from the depths of memory. It was Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci. He looked down at the journal again. Scarlett had copied out the lines in her journal and he read thinking back to the night he'd read the poem to her in New Orleans.

_Ah, what can ail thee, wretched knight, Alone and palely loitering;  
the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing. _

_Ah, what can ail thee, wretched knight, So haggard and so woe-begone?  
The squirrel's granary is full, And the harvest's done. _

_I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew;  
And on thy cheek a fading rose, Fast withereth too. _

_I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful, a faery's child;  
Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild. _

_I set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long;  
For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery's song. _

_I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;  
She look'd at me as she did love, And made sweet moan. _

_She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew;  
And sure in language strange she said, I love thee true. _

_She took me to her elfin grot, And there she gaz'd and sighed deep,  
And there I shut her wild sad eyes--So kiss'd to sleep. _

_And there we slumber'd on the moss, And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,  
The latest dream I ever dream'd, On the cold hill side. _

_I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;  
who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!" _

_I saw their starv'd lips in the glom, with horrid warning gaped wide,  
And I awoke, and found me here On the cold hill side. _

_And this is why I sojourn here alone and palely loitering,  
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing._

The above poem is La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats.


	15. Chapter 15

It was addictive, this window to Scarlett's soul. For the first time in his life Rhett didn't have to second-guess himself when it came to Scarlett's inner monologue. The book he held in his hands laid it clearly before him.

He decided to read further, knowing he'd always wonder what he had missed if he didn't.

He smiled mischievously, thumbing the pages forward he came to the last entry, the one he'd found he writing last night. 'Account book indeed,' the memory of how she tilted her chin up, defiant, as though daring him to contradict her; made his lips curve into a smile. And when he had, she immediately assured him that she always corrected the household books.

He is here, here in England! How can this be? Did he know that I was here? I honestly don't think that is the case as he seemed to be surprised by my presence. Where is his mouse of a wife, that's what I'd like to know. I wish I could find the nerve to ask, but I can't bear to her name on his lips. I can't bear to hear him speak of her with love and pride. I wish he'd leave tonight, I hope I never in my life set eyes on him again, I pray I never hear his name spoken in my presence again.

_I hope this week never ends._

_Why didn't I discover I loved him even a year before I told him? That one year might have been soon enough to save our marriage. Why didn't I just come forward and tell him about the baby, if only I had presented him with the news soon enough we might all be a family now. Ella and Wade and the baby and Rhett and I. If I'd done the right thing Ella and I would have never left America. _

Scarlett meant little Bess but there was no way Rhett could have known that. Instead he assumed she meant the baby she miscarried.

Rhett felt tears prick once again at the back of his eyes. Even now she still thought of the baby she'd miscarried, he thought mistakenly. Soon enough wouldn't have mattered; after all he'd been ready to be angry with her when he arrived.

His mind wandered back to his trip abroad with Bonnie. He expected that Bonnie would be so happy with him and never long for her distant mother. Scarlett hardly noticed Bonnie, but it became apparent that Bonnie noticed Scarlett. While they had been in Charleston Bonnie had told her grandmama all about Scarlett. She spent hours detailing how beautiful her mother was, how she always smelled like lavender, how she liked dogs but not cats. It was that piece of information that caused Rhett in a malicious move to buy Bonnie a kitten.

It pained him to know that while Bonnie loved him with all her heart the odds were very much in favor of her defecting to Scarlett if she only showed the child the slightest bit of encouragement. That angered him so much that when he had returned home with Bonnie he wanted to hurt her. There she'd stood at the top of the stairs, brought there by Bonnie's cries of "Mother, Mother we're home."

He was angry that she held Bonnie so tight and cried into her brown curls. He wanted her to barely acknowledge Bonnie. He felt small and mean for wishing such a thing, but he wanted to keep Bonnie's love as his exclusive property. If Scarlett took an interest in the child, it would be temporary. Eventually she'd drift back to those damn mills and her precious Mister Wilkes. Then Bonnie's little heart would be broken and he'd have to pick up the pieces.

She'd been so nervous, as she faced him at the tops of those stairs. Thinking back he remembered how really endless they seemed. Her face was pale, her eyes were almost feverishly bright. He mocked her. He wanted to humble her because he was Rhett Butler. His pride had suffered because of her and he wanted her to share some of his pain.

He didn't stop to consider that he'd left her alone for three months with not a letter or telegram. He didn't stop to consider that maybe she had missed him as much as he ached for her. He could have been polite and their child would have lived. He could have ignored her and simply left for the station, the baby would have been born. He could have chosen his words with far more thought then he had that day. He could have asked her was she happy, sad, angry. No he did none of those things, instead he baited her, and he insulted her. He didn't ask after her health even though she looked like she was slightly fevered. He merely enquired if "there was a rouge shortage." He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. "Can this wanness mean you've missed me."

The bright light died in her eyes and they became dead in a way he'd never seen.

Even now several years later he could recall her words. He could her the tension in her voice and how close she was to breaking.

"If I'm pale it's your fault and not because I've missed you, you conceited thing. It's because--" "It's because I'm going to have a baby!"

He sucked in his breath suddenly and his eyes went rapidly over her. He took a quick step toward her as though to put a hand on her arm but she twisted away from him, and before the hate in her eyes his face hardened.

"Indeed!" he said coolly. "Well, who's the happy father? Ashley?" He regretted the words the second they came from his lips and his first instinct was to take them back but her next words drove him past reason.

"Damn you!" she began, her voice shaking with sick rage. "You—you know it's yours. And I don't want it any more than you do. No—no woman would want the children of a cad like you. I wish-- Oh, God, I wish it was anybody's baby but yours!"

He hated her in that instant, hated her so badly that he wanted to reach out and throttle her. But instead he allowed his indifferent expression to take hold of his face. She had hurt him to the center of himself and he wanted to dismiss her from his heart and mind.

"Cheer up," he said, turning from her and starting up the stairs, "Maybe you'll have a miscarriage."

Her told her to "cheer up maybe you'll have a miscarriage and then she did. He had wished it on her and then she fell. She fell to the bottom of the stairs and he could recall running to the bottom taking the stairs two at a time knowing that she was dead, after all how could she survive such a fall. She was dead and he'd caused it. He picked her up, cradling her gently. He saw her chest rise and fall in shuddering gasps and his heart began to beat once more. She was still alive, she might live. If she didn't…that was a thought to horrible to contemplate. His voice was foreign to him as he called for Mammy.

She moaned softly and he begged her to stay still, he told her that Dr. Meade was on his way.

Even now an ocean and a lifetime away he could hear the whispered words that came from her lips as she lost consciousness.

"No don't take my baby."

He only read one more paragraph of her entry before tossing her journal to the ground.

_The gossip de jour is that I've born the Prince of Wales a bastard. It's fiercely circulating through all the courts of Europe. People constantly watch me and wonder. Could it be true, is the prince the father to a bastard child. They don't care that I only met the price a little over a year and a half ago. No, they have conveniently worked out scenarios. I love my life here, but no matter where I go scandal follows me like a shadow._

The pounding on his door was so fierce he thought it would come off the hinges.

He steeled himself to tell her the truth. He had her journal and yes he'd read some of it, but not maliciously. Simply to understand her better.

He opened the door to find Scarlett looking disheveled and panicked. She pushed past him to stride to the center of his room.

"Do come in Mrs. Butler. I trust this is an impulsive visit," he teased gently.

"Rhett I need to talk to you, it's important that you…"

"I have to tell you something, something that you should hear from me and not some gossipmonger, sometimes things grow out of our control whether we want them to or not," her pace was so rapid that many of her words were a jumble.

"Scarlett," he wanted to put her at ease, whatever it was obviously tearing her apart. It had to be about the rumor about her having had the prince's child. She was obviously worried that he'd hear it and be angry. That coupled with the missing journal must be what was on her mind. "This is about what you wanted to tell me before is that it.

She nodded, her face pale and her eyes feverish. He knew that he would have to be gentle with her. He would introduce the topic for her so she'd know that he knew it was all rubbish.

"It's about the baby that you've supposedly had with the Prince isn't it?"

"Yes," her tone was leaden and resigned. Now was the time to face up to the crimes she'd committed no matter how right she'd thought she'd been at the time. "Yes it's about my baby."

"With the Prince of Wales," Rhett chuckled, "Poor Scarlett always the subject of the most delicious gossip. And just how did the gossips decide the Prince would have found the time to impregnate you."

"Where there's a will there's a way I suppose. They worked out an acceptable timeline of events."

"People usually do."

"I really did have a baby, Rhett."

For a moment he was sure he'd heard her wrong. He clung to that instant of disbelief for nearly a minute. Her face was solemn and then Rhett's face abruptly lost its expression of mirth. "I beg your pardon?"

"I had a baby Rhett, nearly nine months ago, a beautiful baby girl."

She told him that she hadn't known a man since him; obviously that was a lie, just one more lie from her beautiful lips.

"And just who is the father of this beautiful baby girl?"

He was so cold; he wasn't even going to give her a chance to explain. He had already condemned her. "What business is that of yours?"

Rhett smirked "Well if I am going to be stepfather to your baby don't you think I've the right to know who her father is?"

"You wouldn't be her stepfather." She looked him square in the eye, standing her ground, ready to defend her actions to the grave.

Rhett's mouth turned dry and he could feel his pulse quickening. "Precisely what is it you are trying to tell me?"

Still maybe she could explain, maybe she could reach out to him. "I did what I did because I was afraid of you."

Rhett looked at her incredulously. "Afraid of me, that's ridiculous, what have I ever done to frighten you."

"You took Bonnie away from me, you didn't care that it would hurt you did it any way..."

"You weren't much of a mother to her, truthfully I didn't think you'd notice all that much."

"I loved her."

Rhett turned his back on her and walked to the window. "Scarlett I think you should just take a deep breath and tell me whatever it is you're leading up to."

"Rhett the baby is yours, you're her father."

He turned to face her, the midmorning sun streaming in from the window behind him formed a halo, making him appear as though he were an avenging angel stepped straight from the window of a gothic cathedral.

"We have a child together, you and I?"

"Yes."

"A child that you've been hiding from me."

"Yes."

"She's here, right now in England?"

"Yes."

"For the love of Christ Scarlett, of all the insane things you've ever done this is truly the most reprehensible. How could you keep my own flesh and blood from me? I've always know you had a streak of cruelty, I've just accepted it as a part of you but..."

"Who are you to lecture me you callous bastard. You took Bonnie away from me from the second she was born."

He forgot his earlier resolve to be gentle, forgot the lessons the past had taught him, he wanted to hurt her as she had once again hurt him. "You wanted to rip her out of your wo..."

She slapped him, as hard as she could the sound echoing in the room long after the action had been completed. Rhett rubbed his cheek. "True what they say isn't it Pet, the truth hurts."

"Damn you to hell, I'll give you the truth, I don't need you and neither does Bess. We were fine before you came to Havenhurst and we will be fine long after you leave."

"You think I'll walk away from my daughter just like that."

"I think you'll take whatever way is easiest for Rhett Butler and let me assure you the easiest way is for you to leave, now."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close resting his free hand on her stomach. "And nine months from now Pet, what if I've left you something else to remember me by? Will you telegraph me to inform me of our blessed event."

"Don't touch me." She struggled in his iron grasp, trying desperately to get away.

"Scarlett, you are still my wife and the law says I can deal with you accordingly. If I feel the need to touch you I'll do it, if I feel you are an unfit mother I'll act on it with the full support of the law."

Scarlett began to laugh hysterically in spite of her situation. "What law, we're in England, the royal family is the law. My baby's godparents are the future King of England and Queen Victoria. Most of this country believes me to be the Prince of Wales mistress and those that pride themselves on being "in the know" know for a fact that I bore the Prince a charming bastard daughter a little over a year ago at Hampton Court. You'll never be able to take me from this house and no court in their right mind would award you the daughter of their future sovereign, no matter what claim you feel you have on either of us."

"I want my daughter."

"And I want you to leave, regretfully only one of us will get what they want, you're a gambler Rhett, care to place a wager on who?"

"This isn't over Scarlett, not by a long shot."

Scarlett wrenched her wrist away from Rhett's grip, he let her go and they stood facing one another. From lovers to adversaries once again. "Spoken like the defeated party."

She spun on heel and fled the room before Rhett could stop her.

Rhett stared at the door for a moment willing her to come back and tell him that she'd been playing out some sort of elaborate hoax, but knowing deep down that she wasn't. The fragile peace he hoped they'd built lay at his feet in ruins.


	16. Chapter 16

_Florida was lovely and now I am back, why does no one think this could end well. Lol I am not saying it will after all I think that after everything that happened it could be very bumpy to say the least. Well Happy Birthday SH I am glad you are all enjoying this._

_Used some more of MM's ideas, but no dialoge so that should make the lawyers happy._

Scarlett's heart was in her throat as she hurried back to her rooms. She must have been mad for a brief moment. To tell Rhett they had a daughter, what had she been thinking? That was just it, she hadn't been thinking.

She would go to Bess and take her to the Prince's estate in Llyweenan in the South of Wales. There she could be with her daughter and wait out Rhett Butler. Eventually he'd accept that she was beyond his reach. Surely he'd move on to some other woman.

Another woman loving Rhett, having his child, when it could be her. She blinked back tears, god's nightgown when had she become such a weepy thing. Scarlett O'Hara, that's who she was. She was the daughter of Gerald; who had carved out a life in the Pines and scrub land of Georgia. She had survived great tragedies; pregnancies, war, starvation, and marriage. She could survive this. She would save herself and Bess from the insanity she'd thrown them into. A saying of Rhett's came to her "The lions are hungry." Well hungry they might be and if Scarlett had anything to they'd starve.

What if though, she thought; what if she went back and tried to explain. She shook her head as she mounted the stairs? But no she couldn't trust him, not after the cruel words they'd just flung at each other. She was still his wife though, a situation she'd have to seek to remedy. If she could release him perhaps he'd move forward. Without her. "Rhett," she whispered as she took the stairs two at a time fleeing to the sanctuary of her suite.

He still wanted her, god damn his treacherous heart. He burned for her, needed her in ways that he refused to admit. He had wanted her when he hadn't known they had a child. It wasn't their daughter that drove him to hire investigators to search for her once Anne's treachery had been reveled and he had come to his senses. He would have come straight to England to hunt for her had he know she had been there. Though he wanted to see his baby daughter badly, he knew that she was not the reason he wanted Scarlett so badly. He'd wanted her since she was a fresh belle of 16 at Twelve Oaks and he would continue to want her till the day he died.

Rhett stood; he would go to her and tell her that he could accept what she'd done. It was a terrible thing to do, but maybe if he took the initiative she would meet him half way. He had reached a point in his life where he wanted peace. He wanted his wife in his bed and his baby in her nursery. He could accept that Scarlett had been terrified and alone. He had told her that he wouldn't return to Charleston until she left. He had told her their marriage was over.

On the beach after the boat capsized he had taken her again and again because he thought he that he had lost her. He had told her that he loved her and that she was his life. After telling Scarlett these things he had turned from her and fled. No wonder she hated him enough to keep his child from him. No wonder she feared he would take that child

He would go to her and at least see where they stood.

The Prince of Wales was sweating and saddle sore as he made his way to the stairs leading to the royal wing. Damn Lord Robert, it had taken a great deal of persuasion to convince him to reveal the location of Scarlett's diary. Persuasion by way of two guards holding him up while a third pummeled him. Rhett Butler had Scarlett's diary. What exactly did that mean to them? The Prince wasn't completely sure just where Scarlett and Rhett currently were in their relationship. She loved him; of that fact the Prince was sure. Butler on the other had was a bit of an enigma. Bertie was absolutely sure that Butler wanted Scarlett, what he wanted her for was the mystery. If he read her diary Butler would know about Bess and that fact alone might enrage him to the point of complete fury. It would be best, he concluded, to simply see where fate brought them. At the very least the journal was still in the house and that was what was currently the main concern.

Rhett stepped in the Prince's way. It was immediately clear that Rhett was agitated and spoiling for a fight.

"Your highness, a moment of your time?"

Did he ask about the journal now, no best let him say what it was he felt he needed to say. "Mr. Butler? Neither you nor Scarlett joined us for the hunt. I wondered why you didn't make it."

Rhett smirked slightly, the prince looked as though he'd been riding after something a great deal more allusive than a fox. "How did it end?"

The Prince smiled widely displaying his fine white teeth. "The fox got away."

Two could play at this game. "You seem pleased?"

"It gave us a good run, and cunning won out of brute strength. A highly enjoyable if unexpected outcome."

"Where is my daughter?"

"And hence goes our pretense at pleasantries. I wasn't aware you had a daughter Mr. Butler."

"Where's Bess?"

"You mean Scarlett's daughter? Elizabeth Victoria Robiliard?"

"She gave her the middle name Victoria? That was our late daughter's middle name."

"It is my mother's name, she stood godmother to my illegitimate daughter by Scarlett."

His hands balled into fists, but striking the Prince of Wales on his own estate in front of guards and ushers would not do. "Scarlett claims she's my daughter."

The Prince laughed, as one confidant to another. "Scarlett can hardly be trusted to tell the truth. Mr. Butler, the truth is one of those things Scarlett uses to her advantage. Surely you remember that about her. You have no daughter. I'm sorry if that disappoints you."

"You're lying."

"Mr. Butler, you seem the very soul of manners yet you'd accuse your host of lying to your face within his own house. Ah, you Americans and your sense of candor, completely refreshing. You'll excuse me." The Prince bowed and proceeded up the stairs. Rhett attempted to follow him, but two gentleman ushers one on either side of the stairs stepped forward to bar his way.

"This staircase is for the royal families private quarters. I'm afraid no one is permitted further without the explicit consent of the royal family."

Rhett nodded, his urban exterior hiding his fuming interior. She was right. Her prince's connections would protect her so long as they were in England.

He bowed to the ushers and turned on heel to return to his room. Scarlett's room was next to the Prince's so it would be extremely difficult to get to her, especially now that he was sure the guard and ushers would be under strict instruction not to let him pass. He had been able to reach her last night but now that would be impossible. He could try and force her to leave with him. He was an extremely powerful man, though his rather extensive connections would mean very little here in Victoria's England.

Certainly enough people believed that Scarlett's child was the daughter of their crown Prince. It made sense to them that their Prince preferred a dashing beautiful young Irish American Widow to a Norwegian with a pinched face and cold correct manners.

He retreated to his room to further plot a strategy. He would no doubt see Scarlett later and then he would take her aside and they would have much to discuss. Elizabeth Victoria Robiliard. Good God she had not only not given his child his name, but she hadn't even used her own name. It would be impossible for him to prove that the child was legally his issue. For once Scarlett held their fates completely in her hands and he chafed at the restrictedness of the situation. He could not take the baby from her, he thought crossing to the window. It might kill her; he could not tell himself that Scarlett didn't love her child. It was clear that she worshipped the child.

Besides he had cost her two children, three if he stopped to consider that she had only fled to France out of a fear that he would take her child. Bonnie who he had encouraged to be fearless and slightly wild, the baby she had miscarried, and poor Ella who would have been fine if he had not abandoned Scarlett. Scarlett had been through the torments of the damned; he wouldn't heap more on her.

He loved her. He would not hurt her again, not for anything in the world. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small ambrotype under an oval of glass. Scarlett must have been just 16 when it was taken. Her eyes were slightly downcast as though she wished to portray a visage of modesty that she was completely sure she did not own. He had since had it colored with chalks before having it resealed under it's protective oval of glass.

The image had traveled the world with him. He had never shown it to her, knowing that more than likely her shrewd mind would surmise where he had acquired it. The night he had played cards with Scarlett's father during the war Gerald had shown it to him, telling him of how he had had the portrait taken the year after Scarlett graduated the Fayetteville Ladies Academy.

He boasted that Ellen had wanted a portrait painted, but he had held out for a photograph. He demanded of Rhett "Sure, and do you think some Frenchmen with a box o' colors could've painted me Puss as she really looks? No, I'll tell you tis the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen saving the first time I saw Mrs. O'Hara." He'd asked to see it and Gerald had smiled with real pleasure as he drew out his watch chain with it's seals and fobs. There one two links so it wouldn't be lost was the ambrotype of Scarlett. It was so like her that Rhett looked at it jealously. He merely nodded and commented "A good likeness."

"Aye, so it is," replied Gerald carefully replacing it in his pocket. Later that night when Rhett brought Gerald to Pitty's roaring drunk and singing 'Lament for Robert Emment' Rhett picked his pocket. It was a rather embarrassing situation to be in, picking the pocket of a man not for his wallet, but for a portrait of his daughter. But that hadn't stopped him and when he looked at it, there was no regret for the act that had brought it into his possession.

He sat on the settee, as he did he noticed the journal. Why not read more of it, what was stopping him? If he could steal from a man's pocket then what was the harm in reading the rest of Scarlett's journal. He settled in and started to read.

The Prince of Wales laid the telegram down on his desk. The desk had belonged to Robert Dudley, a courtier to Elizabeth the I, which charmed him greatly. He looked forward to the day he'd be King. He admired his mother, but he loved England. It's rolling hills, it's cliffs, it's proud history. Bertie often despaired that he was not a Plantagent or a Tudor or a Grey or indeed any of the families that had shaped England's vivid past.

He knew his duty, inside his true self. Produce an heir, an heir who was most importantly a legitimate heir, and one who would carry on after he was gone. Why did it have to be with Alexandra?

And now he had to go to Scarlett and tell her that Alexandra had sent him a most alarming telegram.


	17. Chapter 17

Stole four words from that piece of trash Scarlett

This whole chapter is Rhettcentric I want ot give everyone both sides of the story that's the greatest thing about fanfiction we get to go where ever we like. Enjoy

Yes part of this was on NETWORK54 but I was tired of virus's popup's and the lack of format options so I ceased. There is another story that I may post here once I finsh this. I really liked that one but only made it thorugh two chapters so I may flesh it out here.

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Deciding to read the whole of the journal Rhett settled in with a glass of brandy from the small drinks cabinet the room had been so thoughtfully supplied with.

The baby kicks constantly, I expect to wake each morning and find bruises covering my abdomen. We are settled at Hampton Court and won't be moving again till after I give birth. Bertie is quite the nervous father. I told Renee only this morning 'could you imagine how he'd be if this was his child. He is like a mother hen with a chick. He worries over what I eat, what I feel, if I am comfortable. It's paradise to have someone fuss over me again. I once resented Melanie's fussing, but now I realize how much I treasured that feeling on well cared for contentment.

This will be the first child I've ever brought into the world without her there. She came to me at Tara, though I hated her then. She was the first person to hold Wade and Ella and Bonnie. I need her, God Lord I need her so. I miss her. Rhett was right in so many ways about so many things, but never more so than when he spoke of Melly as the only completely kind person he'd ever known.

_Tomorrow is daunting to me. Tomorrow Bertie is to present me to his mother. His mother, Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The Queen of England. The prospect makes me sick to my __stomach__. Bertie told me there is one main reason she chooses to allow me to be presented. My belly. The Queen believes the __gossipmongers__ and has decided that the child I am carrying is her __illegitimate__ grandchild fathered by Albert, The Prince of Wales. Bertie tells me he's tried to convince her, but she's refused to listen._

_How wi__ll__ I curtsey, Good Lord I'__ll__ look like a sinking ship; going down with fu__ll__ sails __unfurled_

_Last night I dreamt of __Rhett__ and I woke to find the space next to me empty. I miss him constantly. I miss his large hand __cradling__ my stomach as I __began__ to fa__ll__ asleep. I miss him kissing me and taking the __opportunity__ to lay his hand on my stomach. He'd never simply ask me if I'd allow him to feel our baby move, he always took an opportunity when it presented itself._

_I wish he were here with me. I'm afraid and it disgusts me. I'm not afraid of the actual labor. I've done it before and know what to expect, but I've never had to give birth among relative strangers. I feel so alone. I care Bertie, I indeed find myself caring deeply for him. But he isn't Rhett and it's Rhett I want now._

_He's been married nearly five months now to a woman who isn't me. Is he happy? I hope so. I gave him so much misery that he deserves whatever happiness he can find. I only wish he knew we were going to have a child, no one in the world is a better father then Rhett. I hope it's a girl. I couldn't bear to have a son grow up to look and be as Rhett is. I would feel my loss of him all that more keenly._

She had wanted him to come, but pride and fear had kept her from him. That and the letter sent by Anne. She had been sad and missed him. She'd been pregnant among strangers when she could have been safe with him. He would have been there by her side, caring for her and Ella. If only he'd know she needed him. She had been frightened and where had he been? He glanced at the date at the top of the entry. By then he'd discovered Anne's duplicity and was drinking himself into a constant stupor at the Landing. Nights passed where he didn't sleep, he just sat on the porch drinking Whiskey and smoking cheroots. He'd study his small ambrotype of Scarlett and occasionally he'd take out the photographs he'd had taken of them during their marriage.

The most often studied was the portrait taken in Matthew Brady's studio in New Orleans. In that portrait Scarlett sat on a straight-backed chair while he'd stood just behind her with his hand causally resting on her shoulder. It was a pose that he meant to show the world that she was his, to have and to hold for the rest of his life. Then if he were truly drunk he'd take out the photographs of Scarlett and the children. He found it hard to look at those, if he had know that both Ella and Bonnie had been gone it would have been impossible. The portrait of Scarlett and the girls was one he'd had done for Scarlett's birthday when Bonnie was about four. Scarlett was posed in the center, sitting on a tuffeted stool. Her skirts were spread out around her and she looked every inch the proper young matron.

A smile touched his lips, thinking about that photograph. ' That just proved looks could be deceiving', he thought. The girls were arranged one on either side of their mother. Ella, looking anxious, and disliking having to sit still for so long, and Bonnie. Bonnie had a secretive smile on her lips. Rhett couldn't penetrate her thoughts. What she'd been thinking about during that portrait? There was a question that would never be answered.

He read on. The next entry was in a hand so rushed for a moment he thought it wasn't hers. It only took the first two lines to reveal why he hand writing was so cramped and scrawling

_I was received. I don't think I'd be welcome in more than a handful of homes in all the South, but here in England tonight I was received by her royal majesty the Queen of England, Victoria., by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith". She blessed me. Bertie says that is something worth having, as his mother is the symbolic head of the Church of England. I am now officially a widow. The Queen of England commiserated with me on my widowed state. She is Europe's most famous widow. Bertie says that every morning his father's clothes are still laid out on his bed even though he's been dead since 1861. Bertie says his mother blames him for his father's death but has never elaborated on why that might be so._

Scarlett received by the Queen that must have been a moment of triumph for Scarlett unrivaled by anything else. He wished he could have seen it.

_Thank God I am due to have the baby in 2 weeks as I have been placed on bed rest. The Doctor that Bertie had retained says that it's necessary. The baby hasn't turned yet so it is going to be a difficult birth. It's too late for it to turn now so Bertie has brought a specialist from London as well as several skilled nurses. Renee says it looks as though I am giving birth to the heir to the throne as I have the retinue of a queen. _

_I'm half mad with boredom. I read, I embroider…badly, and I've been reading sheet music. Bertie tries to keep me amused but it's hard to amuse a pregnant elephant. I feel like an elephant although I've since been informed that an elephant is pregnant for almost 22 months. I would kill Rhett first than myself if I were in this condition for 22 months._

_Queen Victoria has come to sit with me twice, can you imagine what Sue Ellen would say. Perhaps she'd say nothing and just be Pea Green with envy. The Queen brought me hothouse roses that I thanked her for as gracefully as I could. Later I begged Bertie to move them to his rooms. I can't bear the sight of Red Hothouse Roses, not after Charleston. They remind me of Rhett._

She was sleeping; he remembered how pale she was lying in his bed at his mother's house in Charleston. She'd been asleep nearly twelve hours and a part of him wanted to wake her. He wanted to see those jade green eyes open. He wanted to kiss her lips that were slightly swollen from her habit of chewing on them when she slept uneasily. He knew that he loved her, he also knew he could live with her. She said she loved him, but that was today. What about tomorrow or a week from now? What about a year from now? If she loved him and then took that love back it would kill him. The thought of another man loving her, that was a thought that forced a dagger of rage into his heart. Another man kissing her or stoking her ebony curls as she slept, that was unthinkable. If he thought that Middleton Courtney really had bedded Scarlett, the rage inside of him threatened to explode. Ashley Wilkes had infuriated him, but in that case he knew that Ashley would never have gone so far as to sleep with Scarlett. Courtney on the other hand would have taken Scarlett in a heartbeat. He didn't want her but he did. He couldn't keep her with him, but he didn't want any other man to have her.

What had he whispered to her frantically on the beach the day before last… "My Darling, My life. I thought I'd lost you I thought I'd killed you. My darling, my heart, I…then he kissed her. Kissed her again and again and before he knew what was happening they had made love again and again.

It would be so easy to go back to their old pretense at a normal married life. They could return to Atlanta to that tomb of a house or even buy a house here on the battery. They could…He leaned forward to move a ringlet off her forehead. He was reminded of the fairy tale from the Brother's Grimm book that Bonnie had so enjoyed, what was the line that Bonnie exclaimed "Why, that's mother" He looked at her again so pale with her black hair splashed upon her pillow.

It came to him if he closed his eyes and exerted a little effort. "And she thought to herself, would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window-frame." Bonnie was right, that was Scarlett exactly. He could never see her again. He couldn't let her destroy him and he would only hurt her. It was the coward's way out but he would leave her a note and leave Charleston till Rosemary gave him the all clear.

So instead of waking her and telling her that he wouldn't have to fallen in love with her again because he'd never stopped loving her, he left a note. He wished he had simply faced her; no doubt he would have broken his resolve in the face of her tears. If he had let her stay till the agreed upon date it would have become obvious that she was carrying his child, then he would have never let her out of his sight.

But bed rest, why bed rest? Scarlett had never taken a day of bed rest in her entire life excepting when she'd been sick after she lost their baby. Was she sick, had she been in danger? He picked up the journal and continued to read.

_The baby is so heavy at this point I feel as though I can't even stand. Since I can't get out of bed I just lie here and take stock of my woes... I'm dizzy so much of the time that the room seems to spin. My stomach is in turmoil and sometimes I can scarcely breath. Bertie asked me this afternoon if I wanted him to send word to Rhett. I do want him, desperately. But I don't want Anne anywhere near my baby. And this baby is mine. I understand what Rhett meant when he said Bonnie was the first person ever to belong completely to him. I've told Bertie that if I die then he'll have to send the letter I've written to Rhett. It explains everything. I've told him to enclose this journal as well. Maybe it will explain my actions and my heart if he reads these pages. How can I keep this baby a secret? He deserves to know him or her…though I agree with Ella of course this baby is a girl. I wish things were different, if he weren't married I could swallow my pride and beg him to come. Oh Rhett, I need you so. We both do._


	18. Chapter 18

**Not thrilled with this chapter yeah me either but it's driving me nuts because it's a bridge to the conclusion of the story so love it or hate it. This is the best I can do for right now. Am going to step back for a few days. Then I may fix it.**

**I was conned into joining myspace dot com by my evil friends join me won't you if you are also there. I promise you can all be my friends since right now I only have Tom. It's corrin paul you're looking for. My blog is um something else lol**

**I understand that people often dislike mid-story flashbacks; I myself love them. Sorry I realize that makes the story difficult to follow but to once again be truthful I just write for my own amusement and if I can follow it I write it. Later when this is all done I'll revise, fix words that are wrong and the time line. I'll probably shrink the entries into 10 chapters then. We'll see. Three days trying to load this and finally just now it worked**

**Ok well enjoy**

The knock on his door was hesitant this time, but still he knew it was her once again. It was only a matter of time till she returned to face him. Scarlett O'Hara was many things, but a coward wasn't one of them.

He stood and crossed to the door and admitted Scarlett who looked up at him expectantly.

"Scarlett?"

"Rhett, you've something of mine, I meant to ask for it when I was here earlier." Straight, direct, and to the point. There was no sign of the southern belle simper that for years had been her most readily employed weapon. She was a lady now, he could finally see that. Being around her these last two days had shown him that. She hadn't kept his child from him to hurt him because of some childish feelings of anger. She had acted in what she thought to be the best manner for the happiness of her child. Their child.

"Your journal?"

Her demeanor of calm slid away as she ventured further into his room. "May I have it?"

"No."

She spun to face him, "What do you mean by no."

"Just that, no. But I will say it makes enthralling reading material."

"You read my journal, my private thoughts." She laughed coldly, "I've known you were an eavesdropper for a long time, but a snoop too. You've added to your resume."

"I believe you meant for me to read it."

"I never intended you to read my journal." She retorted, the venom in her words was forced though. Secretly she was curious, what had he though while reading her journal? Was he still angry with her because of her concealing Bess's existence? Regardless though to read her journal so causally, her journal, which she'd shared with no one, not even Bertie.

Rhett crossed to the settee and picked up the journal. Scarlett lunged forward to take it from him but he sidestepped her, as gracefully as a dance master. He thumbed to the entry detailing the days before the birth of her daughter…their daughter in fact. He had to surprise a smile at the words their daughter.

He cleared his throat gently and began to read aloud, ignoring her rising blush of indignation at being lectured by her own words.

"I've told Bertie that if I die then he'll have to send the letter I've written to Rhett. It explains everything. I've told him to enclose this journal as well. Maybe it will explain my actions and my heart if he reads these pages. How can I keep this baby a secret? He deserves to know him or her…though I agree with Ella of course this baby is a girl. I wish things were different, if only he weren't married I could swallow my pride and beg him to come. Oh Rhett, I need you so. We both do."

He closed the book and reluctantly handed it to her. There was quite a bit more to read, but she was correct in one thing, she'd never meant for him to read her journal while she was still living.

She walked away from him to gaze out on the grounds. Her back was straight and her head was held high. "I did need you then, I don't anymore."

He crossed to her and stood close enough to touch her though there was no contact between them. Each was painfully aware of the other's proximity. He wanted to simply reach out and take her in his arms. To take her to his bed and ignore their problems at least for a short time. "Where's my letter?"

She didn't try to stonewall him, if he had read even a little of her journal he knew how much she'd changed since they'd parted company in Charleston. "I didn't die so Bertie didn't send it"

"Do you still have it?"

"It won't change anything."

"I'd like to hear it."

She looked at him incredulously, and then shook her head. "No."

"What harm can it do," he asked.

"What good could it do?" she countered.

He shrugged "I've always enjoyed deathbed confessions. Yours must have been pure Scarlett."

She tugged on his sleeve forcing him to face her. "You think you can goad me into whatever it is you want me to do. If you taunt me you can control the direction I take my life in? The great Rhett Butler controlling the stars of little ole me. You really want to hear my letter. Fine." She turned to the last two pages of the journal. "I wrote the rough draft in here. I don't know what happened to the actual letter but I'm sure you'll get the general idea.

_Darling Rhett,_

_It feels strange to be writing you in such a final manner but I had things that need to be said and I don't believe I'll see you again in this life to say them firsthand. I owe you an explanation for my actions; I acted out of distrust and out of fear. Fear of you and of the unknown. I left America carrying your child, the result of our last encounter. I had decided to tell you about the baby when I reached France, but I received the news of your marriage to Anne and decided to take my secrets to the grave. Now I find the grave yawning in front of me and it's time to unburden my heart and soul to you._

_I love you, despite the harsh words and the broken heart I carry I love you. I lusted after Ashley in a way that I finally see was childish admiration taken miles to far. I never met my equal till you and for that and a thousand varied reasons it's you I've truly loved all along. I love you and will till my last breath is drawn. Come now Rhett don't you find the irony in these words to be overwhelming. Once again Scarlett O'Hara is confessing her love to a married man. I love you with all of my heart and soul. _

_Our child will be in the care of Albert the Prince of Wales who has promised to deliver these words and my journal. He promises to care for her till you can make arrangements to come for her. I know our child to be a girl, in my heart of hearts I know. Just as I know that I love you and will for all the days that remain to me._

_Remember me and tell our daughter only the good and I know that in rare moments there was good. Our time together is in the past and your future is an unknown road. But as is often said by wits and wags "All the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years."_

_Care for our child, love her, and protect her. And know that I died loving only you. _

_Only yours._

Scarlett O'Hara Butler 

Scarlett blinked back quick tears. She'd forgotten how much she'd ached for him in those last days of her pregnancy when the Doctors had whispered behind their hands that the Prince's mistress might not survive childbirth. She would have moved heaven and earth to have him near her then. And now he was so close that she could smell those scents that she had always associated with her father and later Rhett. Fine cigars, quality brandy, and an undertone of leather and polish. Those smells had always been a comfort to her. In her deepest moments of agony they had sustained and calmed her.

Suddenly her head came up sharply and she turned to face him. His own expression was hard to gauge. It was one of quiet contemplation as though he was trying to prolong the spell her supposed last words had woven. Where had she been, in agony, and smelled the scent that she had always subconsciously associated with Rhett?

"You were there, weren't you? "

His face clouded in confusion but before he could open his mouth she plunged ahead.

"After I lost the baby, when I was unconscious? I always assumed you didn't want me, didn't care. You never said that you'd come to me so I simply believed that you never did." When he didn't answer her she declared again firmly "You were there."

He nodded to buy himself a few moments. He didn't trust his voice not to falter and he didn't want to appear weak before her. "Yes, I came to see you after your fall."

"How many times?"

"Does it matter?"

She nodded "Yes, it matters to me. It's why Melly told me told me to be kind to you, because you loved me so. I just thought she meant in general, but she had a specific example didn't she."

"Yes."

Scarlett stood there silently waiting for him to say something, anything about anything. The silence was beginning to fray her already overwrought nerves. "Can't you say anything to me?"

Rhett walked away from her and settled in the armchair Scarlett had occupied yesterday while they discussed her new life. Now it was his turn to be seated and to discuss a time in their marriage he'd hoped to never have to revisit again. "Why don't you sit down and we'll talk, please."

Scarlett reluctantly perched on the edge of the window seat. He raised an eyebrow at her choice of seating and she shrugged delicately.

"That wasn't quite what I meant, but no matter."

"When did you see me?"

Rhett tented his hands into a steeple and began to speak. " At first I thought you were dead, it was such a tremendous fall and I took the stairs two at a time to reach you at the bottom. When I reached the bottom I realized you were still breathing so I gathered you in my arms and yelled for Mammy or anyone to come. Your chest was rising and falling and I couldn't take my eyes off of it because it was the only indication that you were still alive. You…you spoke once and then lost consciousness." He dreaded the question he knew would come, but the answer came unbidden from his lips in a horse voice he could scarcely recognize as his own. So before she could ask her question he answered it. "You said 'No, don't take my baby. Do you remember that?"

She shook her head "I remember you calling for Mammy and holding me. I don't remember saying anything."

"I waited for Doctor Mede at the bottom of the stairs while I held you. When he came he told me to pick you up and I carried you upstairs. You were so white and your lips were blue from shock. You moaned once when I jostled you and again when I laid you on the bed. By then Mrs. Meade and Miss Melly had arrived as well as Dr. Wiley. They ordered me out and I went in my bedroom and closed the door. I kept replaying what we'd said to one another…what I said to you. I told you'd have an accident and then you did. I kept thinking the last words I said to you were so cruel that you'd never know how I …" his composure broke and his head dropped forward. He sat there in silence, cradling his face in his hands.

She hated him sometimes, she feared his anger at what she'd done, but she still loved him and her resolve to keep herself from him melted to see him look so broken. Before she could consider the ramifications she flung herself from the window seat and practically flew across the room. Before she knew how she was in his arms and he held her so tightly she was nearly breathless. He was whispering things to her that she'd thought she'd imagined the first time he'd said them.

"I love you, you're my life, I thought I'd killed you and when I finally raised the courage to go to you, you didn't respond. I called your name and you only cried quietly. I tried to tell you I was sorry, that it was an accident, that I loved you. But you just cried and I couldn't bear to hurt you again so I shut myself up in my room. I thought you'd die and it would be my fault entirely. I love you, I've always loved you…" He continued in the same vein for a time before pulling her closer and burying his lips in her hair.

His words were a jumble and she could hardly believe that Rhett Butler; so polished and in control of himself could lose his iron grip on himself. Except when Bonnie died she'd never seen Rhett show hurt or despair and now she could see that behind his mockery and dismissive attitude he had only been protecting his heart, from her.

She could feel the tears that had threatened to spill earlier course down her cheeks. She loved him with all of her heart and he loved her. What else mattered except that?

"Oh Rhett, I love you. I've missed you so much…" She meant to say more but his lips found hers and she instead wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her breathless.

His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she never thought she'd feel again. Her hands raked through his hair and she could feel his hands scorch her skin through her chemise and thin white cambric riding shirt.

His lips slid to her ear and her alternated between kissing her throat and murmuring endearments. Her head fell back as she gave herself over to the sensations he caused to spill over her.

He spoke only once more before carrying her to his bed "I never stopped loving you Scarlett Butler and I never will."


	19. Chapter 19

They'd slept in one another's arms for a few hours as the sun set over the Prince of Wales parklands. Now, however; they'd left their second reunion in 48 hours behind as they tried to plan a future. After several bouts of love making and arguing they'd decided to try to make some major decisions. Scarlett sat cross-legged on the large, now disheveled bed wearing Rhett's shirt while he reclined back on several pillows.

It wasn't that they could see each other's differing points of view. In fact Scarlett agreed with Rhett on several points, the main point being the sooner he met Bess the better. However, she disagreed with him on one major issue, she would not return to Charleston. She feared that people would cut Bess dead when she was older and she was not about to let a passel of ignorant busybodies judge her daughter. Rhett argued that if they didn't go home and face people now while Bess was small they certainly would never be able to when Bess was older. Scarlett retorted with venom at his insistence. "You fixed it so I couldn't come home, I don't see why we should go back now. We could stay here."

Rhett smirked "In England, with my wife posing as the Prince of Wales' mistress, why my dear that's just the way I'd imagined my twilight years when I was a young man."

She smiled "Twilight my foot," her tone grew serious "but truly I'd like to stay in England."

He ran his hand through his hair, he wanted to be fair, but she was being so obstinate. He was use to her being contradictory, she'd been that way since the day he'd first met her at Twelve Oaks. Now though the determination to protect Bess was clear in her eyes. If she thought it would hurt Bess she would not bend or break.

"Scarlett that's impossible, surely you see that. You are one of the most notorious women in England, hell in Europe. You must know that, I've only been here a few days and that's clear to me. My God in the carriage Lettie Morland regaled me with the talents and beauty of the Prince of Wales' mistress. She isn't the only one either."

"I can't go back to Charleston or Atlanta for that matter. I love Bess with all my heart; Wade wants to come here in another year. Cambridge or Oxford, for the love of God Rhett don't make me choose between you and what's best for my child."

"Our child."

"I love you, I've longed for you, and now I can't lose you; but don't ask me to return to Charleston. Do you think your sister would welcome me with open arms? Or your mother? Or Sally or Miss Ashley? No they'd cut me dead because it would be expected of them. Honor would demand they cut me. And if they did condescend to speak to me, it would be because they wished to gather the scandalous details of the past two years."

"So you intend never to return to the states. What about your sister's and the aunts? Surely you must need to check up on the Honorable Mister Wilkes.?"

Scarlett shifted uncomfortably and drew the sheet around her as she sat up in his bed.

"Scarlett?" Even after the time they'd spent apart he could still recognize certain stirs in her body language. The last jab about Mister Wilkes had hit close to home and he wanted to know why. "Scarlett, aren't you curious as to how Ashley is getting along?"

"No."

"Because?"

"Because I only just saw him last month and he was doing quite well. Next time I write I'll send your regards."

Rhett struggled to keep his voice down. He would keep himself in check so as not to drive her off again. If they were to succeed in rebuilding a life together he would have to take each comment one at a time. "You were in Atlanta?"

Scarlett shook her head. "No." She fiddled with the ring on her left hand, twisting the band of gold accented with cross-hatchings back and forth. "Ashley came to visit here, well not here precisely, but in Southampton."

His anger was churning inside him but still he pressed on, his tone neutral. "So Mister Wilkes had the pleasure of meeting my own flesh and blood before me?"

"I didn't tell him so perhaps your honor you can remove me from the dock and save judgment till I finish. Wade told Beau about Bess and Beau told Ashley. Ashley came to Europe because he sold the mills for a huge profit and is thinking of resettling in Italy once Beau graduates from college. He doesn't care for the South anymore and I think everything there reminds him of Melly. When he arrived I had no intention of telling him about Bess. For the love of God Rhett Kinnicut Butler, do you think I'd tell Ashley about our child but never bother you about her."

"Yes."

"Then you're a fool. He confronted me and told me to do the right thing and contact you. I told him that it was none of his concern and to leave the issue alone. He never saw her though, I didn't feel that it would be right for Ashley to met Bess and not you."

"Well I appreciate your loyalty, speaking of meting my daughter, when do you think that would be possible?"

"Rhett don't change the subject, what are we going to do?"

"Be a family. No matter where that takes us. I love you, I already love our daughter and I haven't even seen her yet. I can't be without you. I won't be without you."

She wanted to fling herself into his arms but she could still feel some doubt brewing below the surface. Could they really try again? Would Wade despise her for returning to Rhett? Would he try to force her to return to Charleston?

"Scarlett? A pound for your thought?"

Unbidden a smile spread across her face. "They aren't worth sixpence." She gracefully swung her legs over the side of the bed and began to gather her clothes.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To my suite, dinner's in a little over an hour. I have to dress."

He smiled rakishly "I prefer you undressed."

Scarlett fluttered her lashes coquettishly. "But just think, if I go and get dressed, eventually I'll have to undress."

He threw back his head and laughed. "You make a persuasive argument sweetheart. Go, get dressed. I look forward to seeing you in your gown."

"Only because you'll be imagining seeing me without it."

"Touché Cherie."

Scarlett felt as though she had been given a second chance. Rhett was unmarried, he loved her, he was hurt but still he at least tried to understand what had motivated her to keep Bess a secret. Tomorrow she would tell Bertie that she had to take Rhett to see Bess. She hated to leave him without a hostess but she wanted to hold her baby and to see Rhett hold her baby. Their baby. She glanced heavenward for an instant before bring her eyes down in a swift movement. Silly as it seemed, maybe Melly was watching over the both of them, guiding their steps till they came together once more.

Scarlett hummed as she looked through her wardrobe. Tonight no more black and white ensembles for the Widow Robiliard. No, she was Scarlett Butler and she wanted to be stunning for him. Finally her eyes lit on a midnight blue watered silk gown. Tiny black pearls had been attached with silver thread. It looked like groups of stars glowing in a silk sky. She would wear her hair long; he loved her hair long. He loved her. She hugged the dress to herself disregarding the possibility that she might wrinkle it. This would be a night they would never forget.


	20. Chapter 20

I am so pleased with my whole little end of chapter scene and anyone that doesn't like it, sorry but there's no popping this warm feeling of utter god in the box.

Scarlett hummed as she looked through her wardrobe. Tonight no more black and white ensembles for the Widow Robiliard. No, she was Scarlett Butler and she wanted to be stunning for him. Finally her eyes lit on a midnight blue watered silk gown. Tiny black pearls had been attached with silver thread. It looked like groups of stars glowing in a silk sky. She would wear her hair long; he loved her hair long. He loved her. She hugged the dress to herself disregarding the possibility that she might wrinkle it. This would be a night they would never forget.

"Scarlett?"

Scarlett turned to find Bertie leaning in the doorway that connected their suites. He smiled at her, but it was a smile that never reached his eyes.

"You look as though you've lost your best friend."

"I have."

Rhett finished shaving, and shrugged on his dinner jacket. In the interior pocket of his jacket was Scarlett's wedding ring. Cecile, his mother's housekeeper had found it in the ashes of the guest room Scarlett had stayed in while she had been in Charleston. He assumed she'd thrown it into the fireplace after reading his letter. He wanted nothing more than to steal away to a justice and be married as soon as possible. Well remarried, he at the very least wanted them to share in a ceremony in which both of them were there in the moment, in love with one another.

He finally had everything he wanted from life; Scarlett, a child to lavish love on, and the wealth to enjoy everything life has to offer. He knew it wouldn't be a fairy tale. He knew that there would be disagreements and hurt feelings. Of course there would be misunderstandings or doubts, but after everything they'd been through to be together he'd never walk away from her again.

"Bertie who do you mean, Lord Robert?"

"Scarlett, Alexandra sent me a telegram and two hours ago she arrived here."

"Here, as in here at Havenhurst?"

Bertie nodded. "She's in my mother's suite," he paused measuring his words and finally finding the right ones he continued. "She wanted these rooms but I told her that evicting you from them this week would cause a scandal."

"Your wife occupying your mistresses' rooms, yes that would rock the foundations of the monarchy." Scarlett replied with more than a touch of irony.

"Scarlett, you should sit, I should sit. I, good God she has gone to the extreme."

Scarlett hurried to his side and led him over to the settee in front of her fireplace. "Start from the beginning."

"Alexandra has gone over my head, indeed she's gone over my mother's head, though I never thought she had it in her." He trailed off and stared into the flames.

"Bertie how is it possible to go over your mother's head? She's the Queen of Great Britain, she rules a nation?"

"She went to Prime Minster Gladstone."

"That's the man that supported the South during the war?"

"Yes, he's very popular in the house and among the common man on the street. They call him The People's William. Alexandra told him that our marriage hasn't been consummated."

"But nearly all of Europe knows that. How could your own Prime Minster not know."

"You're half right, all of Europe suspects, but neither Alexandra nor I have ever actually come forward and substantiated that rumor. She's threatening to go to the House of Lords and testify." His voice rose in barely controlled rage at his estranged wife's duplicity. "Scarlett I'll be struck from the Civil list. If that happens the Lords can charge me with undermining the succession. I'll be passed over in favor of my brother Alfie."

"What does she want from you?"

"A child. She's laid the following conditions before me, I am to put you aside and cohabitate with her. When she produces a male heir to the throne," he laughed sardonically, "then I may return to you. She assumes you'll need a home and a pension so she's convinced Gladstone to offer you a lifetime residence at Osborne House. I must begin to publicly, but again discreetly begin to circulate the truth about Bess. At least the truth as Alexandra perceives it. She doesn't want a child thought to be my bastard to one day be included in family occasions."

"Bertie…"

"I promised you I would always watch over you and Bess, you're my friend, indeed you and Bess are all the light in my world, how can I turn you out?"

"You don't have to, Rhett isn't married, Anne or his sister wrote me that letter. He almost married her but then it turned out that she was fast."

"Fast?" he asked smiling in spite of the current tension that was evident in his facial expression.

"A charming old Southern turn of phrase meaning she's a whore."

He grinned, "That is charming. So what are your plans then? Do you have any?"

"I'm going to take Rhett to see Bess tomorrow, which, if Alexandra wants me gone then I suppose that's for the best."

"What about your things? You have personal items strewn through nine estates."

"There only things, and anyway you can have them packed and sent on to Osborne House."

"Osborne House? Does that mean you're going to stay in England?"

"Well I certainly would like too, though I am going to let Rhett pressure me into returning to Charleston for a short visit. After all every man needs small victories in marriage to feel vindicated. I hate Charleston and I've no doubt I'll be cut dead, but Rhett's right, if we don't go back and show that Rhett and I are married and that we were never divorced people will believe Bess to be a bastard. That leads me to another problem, but I have friends in very high places so no doubt it can be fixed easily."

"The fact that in the registry and on her certificate of birth Bess is listed as Elizabeth Victoria Robiliard?"

"How very astute of you. Yes the fact that Bess isn't even under my real maiden name had been troubling me for sometime."

"I'll contact the P.M. Monday and tell him that the situation needs to be rectified immediately, will you call her Butler."

"Yes."

"Well then all I have to say is that it's about time."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be obtuse with me Madame Robiliard, you know exactly what I mean. You love that man and I've watched you," he smiled and took her hands in his, "You are a rare soul and I've been privileged to spend this last year and a half with you. I love you and Bess. No matter what I'll never forget you and if you ever need me I'll be there with all the resources I can muster."

"I love you too, you and your family have been so good to me. I wouldn't have survived the last year without all of you. You took me in, made me a part of a family. No one judged me or shamed me. No one expected me to be any more than I was. I am so painfully grateful for everything you've done for my daughter and me."

The two friends sat before the fire for a time simply and in silence, just enjoying the close comfort that can only be shared with a kindred spirit.

The foyer was abuzz with gossip; word that The Princess of Wales was in residence had spread like wild fire. Early speculation said that Madame Robiliard was to be turned out with a fantastic pension and a palatal home. The Ton wondered at the complete details of the agreement, most importantly what would happen to Scarlett's daughter? If the Prince wasn't the child's father Madame Robiliard would have simply been dismissed without a further thought. No, they told one another, an estate where the child had her nursery was the one that Scarlett had supposedly been offered.

The Prince and Princess of Wales stood just before the doors to the dinning room in the same place that the Prince and Scarlett had occupied the night before. The Prince had no facial expression. His eyes were flat and his lips drawn into a straight line. He clearly projected the image of a man attempting to perform his assigned role, royal heir.

Alexandra smiled graciously as various guests came to greet them. She was triumphant and stood tall. She'd vanquished the Prince and sent his whore from their lives. If he could love that strumpet then it was obvious in time he'd come to have some sort of feeling for her. She'd finally dismissed the rumors about the Prince's sexual appetites. No one that was as obsessed with a woman as the Prince was with Scarlett could prefer men, it was now clear to her that it had simply been malicious slander aimed at undermining the Prince's reputation.

None of that mattered though, she had won and Scarlett Robiliard was clearly the loser.

The gentleman caller announced each name as that guest reached the middle platform dividing the grand staircase into two tiers. The gentry occasionally directed their eyes to the stairs when the name was unfamiliar or if it was someone with a hint of scandal attached. Gossip was just one more major component of an enjoyable house party.

Rhett stood at the bottom of the staircase; a well-placed bribe of a few pounds had bought him the cooperation of a footman who'd brought him downstairs through a back staircase

That exited by a door in the India Room. He had wanted to avoid the crush at the top of the stairs. The continuous speculation about Scarlett was maddening. Nearly everyone believed Scarlett to be the Prince's soon to be cast off bed partner. They spoke of her bastard child and the pension Scarlett had been promised. On that last count Rhett was already adamant. No wife of a Butler was going to take a cash settlement for a job well done, or in this case undone.

"Lady Eleanor Marchope," announced the gentleman caller as an older woman descended the stair. After Lady Marchope there was a significant pause. The woman in the blue ball gown had escaped the notice of the general assembly because until the next moment none of them had seen her in any clothes that weren't black save her riding pinks.

"Mrs. Scarlett Butler." Scarlett stood on the platform for a heartbeat longer that was generally considered necessary as all conversation in the room dwindled and then died. The eyes of over a hundred people were trained on her. The flaming candles in the Lachine Chandler hanging from the apex of the dome overhead illuminated her like a spotlight; the beading on her gown caught the light and refracted it. She looked like a shimmering goddess clothed in a gown made from a piece of the night sky. Her hair was artfully curled and left unbound like a maid on her way to the Alter. She wore around her neck a heavy filigree pendent that cradled a flawless sapphire, her birthing gift from the Queen. She was regal, elegant, and as fresh as untrodden snow.

She scanned the room; never acknowledging the silence, then the rising roar of conversation her appearance had ignited. Finally her eyes lit on Rhett, who raised his champagne flute in a movement the was barely perceivable in a silent salute to both her beauty and bravery. She descended the remaining stairs like a warship in sail, full of motion and intent purpose. Bertie glanced at Alexandra and smiled cruelly. He took a step forward and her hand caught his sleeve but the look in his eyes caused her to draw back in brief panic.

She could only glare at his broad back as he made his way through the parting crush to the base of the stairs. The room was silent once again, holding it's collective breath to see what would happen next.

Scarlett had rested on the last step so that she and the Prince were of an equal height. They solemnly regarded each other before the expressions changed to ones of distracted mirth. They were the focus of the small universe they occupied and they knew it to their great amusement. No one in the room dared blink, least they missed a pivotal moment in the history of the house of Saxe-Coberg-Gotha.

The Prince's left eyelid dropped briefly in a quick wink that conveyed one thought "Go alone with me." He drew himself to his full height and standing ramrod tall he took two steps backward in a motion reminiscent of a courtier paying homage to his Queen. Then sharply he clicked his heels before bending from the waist to brush a kiss on her proffered hand. "Mrs. Butler."

Scarlett took hold of his hand and gently drew him onto the step beside her. They again looked at one another then Scarlett smiled slightly and nodded.

Bertie turned to face the room and he spoke loudly commanding complete attention, in the current situation, however; he already had the attention of everyone in the room.

"My friends, may I be so bold as to ask you all to join me in a toast to my dear friend Scarlett Robiliard Butler. Last night she made a startling discovery. Her husband, who had been presumed dead in a disaster at sea, had in fact been grievously injured and as soon as he had recovered enough to travel he hired investigators to find her. He finally located her in France, but there the trail grew cold."

Scarlett had to hold her breath to keep from laughing. The look on Rhett's face was classic Rhett. His lips twisted in a sardonic grin, mocking the assembled company's looks of naïve acceptance of the Prince's explanation. The Ton was swept up in the unbelievable romance and drama of Scarlett's completely fabricated mysterious past.

Bertie took in the crowd's response to his previous statement and decided to continue in the same vein. "In an ironic twist of fate Scarlett had inherited her uncle's estate in France, but under the provisions of his will she had to resume her maiden name. At the time she was carrying my Goddaughter, Elizabeth. Her uncle had hoped the child would be a boy and if Scarlett bore her maiden name then her son would have been born to a Robiliard. He would have carried on the name. Unfortunately Scarlett's husband was unaware of this and found only the end of a trail gone cold. He came to England to see friends and in the course of conversation he heard Scarlett's name. Scarlett being such an uncommon first name and the coincidence of her surname being the same as his wife's family he hired a Bow Street runner who was able to conclude that Scarlett Robiliard was once Scarlett Butler. Once he learned where she was he came here immediately to inform her that the reports of his untimely demise were greatly exaggerated."

He turned to search out Rhett. Their eyes met across the crowded foyer and Rhett gave an exaggerated shrug of ascent.

"They've now been reunited and Captain Butler is delighted to learn of his child, my beloved godchild Elizabeth Victoria." He gestured to Rhett, "Captain Butler, would you join us?"

Rhett nodded graciously and made his way through the now completely stunned throng. When he reached the stairs he took Scarlett's hand and smiled blandly. The footman had circulated the room and provided everyone with a Champagne flute.

Bertie turned slightly toward the Butler's "Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Scarlett and Rhett Butler, I wish them love. My friends," he raised his glass high as did everyone in the room eager to follow suit, "To the Butler's."

The entire assembled gentry chorused their Prince "To the Butler's," rang out through the room echoing in the enormous expanse of hall and it's domed ceiling.


	21. Chapter 21

_I think I borrowed a line from MM lol you know it when you read it. Oh and and a vauge shadow from the terrible movie adaption of Scarlett who to credit for that I don't know but it's a thought not a scene so I'm not going to sweat it. Three chapters left and then I am starting a different story that is boiling in my brain and needs to get out. Don't worry it's GWTW. It'll be mature so look for it in the M cat._

They sat at the head table. Scarlett and Bertie in their usual chairs and their spouses one on either side. The entire room was employing every iota of good breeding polished by the life long practice of not noticing the outrageous exploits of royalty. Could the handsome man sitting next to Scarlett really be her long lost husband? Some whispered reminders to their companions about how earlier rumors about Scarlett suggested she was the widow of a gentleman pirate. After all Madame had come from France and it was well known that, despite France's joint venture with the British navy to rid European waters of pirates, many Captains used France as a home base before heading into the Mediterranean. Perhaps Madame's husband had been taken prisoner and really had been presumed dead.

Other tables speculated that the incredibly handsome man claiming to be Scarlett's husband was in fact a friend of the Prince's. Maybe he was masquerading as Scarlett's husband so she could leave royal service in a seemly manner.

Lettie and John Moreland were themselves deep in conversation. "Can you believe it, I knew they were previously acquainted. The second we were first received by Scarlett there was obviously something between them, isn't it all romantic," concluded Lettie sighing deeply.

John snorted "A fine example Rhett sets for you, now I'll never be able to convince you that things like this simply don't happen outside of half-penny novellas." His face was serious but his playful tone belied his expression. He was glad for his friend who had spoke only last night of how much he had once loved Scarlett. Now it appeared that that love had never really died off but instead had been slumbering waiting to be coaxed back into existence. He laughed aloud at his inner musings. He was growing as bad as his sister with romantic imagery. "At any rate this will turn the girls at your school pea green with envy when you relate the tale as a first hand observer."

Lettie grinned, it was a most unladylike smile but her brother was in such a jovial mood he only returned it instead of giving his usual criticism. "And to think that Eleanor was bragging about simply being at an at home afternoon where Madame played the piano, won't she just want to crawl under her covers with envy."

Scarlett and Bertie were so pleased with themselves they could barely keep their amusement from bubbling over into hilarity.

Alexandra would only look down at her plate. 'If only she weren't the Princess of Wales, oh what she'd do to her husbands pretty whore', she thought furiously. They couldn't keep their eyes off of one another and that creature's "husband" seemed to find the whole incident extremely funny.

"So you'll be leaving England, soon," shesaid pointedly.

"We haven't really decided your highness, we are so delighted to have found one another again that we haven't given a great deal of thought to where we shall reside."

"No doubt you'll be eager to return to France?" she continued to press.

"No your highness, we defiantly won't return to France."

"Enough talk of leaving, tonight we're simply happy that our good friend has been reunited with her husband," said Bertie absently twirling a spoon between his thumb and pointer finger.

"The royal we, not on my account Bertie," teased Scarlett.

"Scarlett now owns the lease on Osborne House so I assume the Butler's will take up residency there," continued Bertie absently.

"We haven't completely finalized our plans your highness," commented Rhett politely.

The rest of dinner progressed in the same strained bursts of conversation for over an hour. After dinner Scarlett and Rhett excused themselves and returned to the sanctuary of Scarlett's suite.

"That was on par with Chinese water torture, my love," said Rhett as he tossed his evening jacket on the back of a chair.

Scarlett only nodded dumbly as she walked through the room absently touching various knickknacks as she made her way to the dressing room that she'd converted into a nursery for Bess. She opened the door and sighed deeply. Rhett seated himself before the fire after lighting a thin cigar. He could tell she needed some time to adjust to the changes the last few days had wrought and he didn't want to push her to let him in any further than she'd currently let him in.

"Would you like to see Bess' nursery?"

Rhett didn't answer but instead rose and joined her in the doorway. The small cozy room contained a round crib that was trimmed in rich rose silk. The coverlet was a piece of eyelet backed by more rose silk. The crib was fit for a baby empress and he felt a small thrill of pleasure at the fact that his daughter had been so clearly worshiped, not only by Scarlett but also by everyone around her.

"Was this a dressing room?"

"Yes," replied Scarlett opening a dresser drawer to remove a small rosewood box.

Rhett nodded deep in thought, imagine Scarlett forgoing fashion to put her child first. Snapping himself out of his reflections he glanced at the wooden box she was holding. "What isthat?"

"Things I always take with me," she paused thoughtfully, clearly she didn't want to talk but then she continued, "A lock of Ella's hair and another of Bonnie's, locks of my parents hair; those are tied together, some photographs, Melly's cross. Bertie calls it the box macabre," she laughed shortly, "Just think a few short years ago I wouldn't have even known what macabre meant let alone that it's part of an allegory for death."

"You've changed a great deal, it's going to be one of the greatest pleasures of my life to get to know you all over again," replied Rhett taking the box from her hands and setting it down reverently on top of the dresser.

She turned to face him. "I won't be treated like a pet or a toy kept for your amusement. I won't let you play with me as a doll that resumes her place on the playroom shelf when you're finished. I've grown up, I can't become a parody of who I've become to please anyone, not even you."

"I have something for you," said Rhett quietly as he reached into his pocket and between two fingers he removed a band of gold.

Her eyebrows rose upward in surprise. "It's my ring, where did you find it?"

"It was right where you left it."

Scarlett colored prettily. "Oh."

"I thought you might like it back."

Scarlett offered her hand and Rhett took it, gently sliding her wedding band back on the finger it had once occupied. They stood there for a time both studying her hand.

"I'm never going to lose you again," said Rhett drawing her towards him.

"Do you remember what you said to me when you asked me to marry you?"

Rhett smiled thinking about that afternoon. He had taken a good deal of time that morning pacing his hotel room while debating with himself. The Widow Kennedy would come to the realization that Frank had left her a very well to do young woman, and without him nagging her on the merits of conscientious business practices she would no doubt make the small fortune Frank had left her swell if left to her own devices. That's why he had to ask her to marry him immediately. The longer he left her, the more resolved she would become to living as her own master.

Or worse, she would meet someone that would sweep her off her feet and he'd have to try to outlive yet another one of her husbands.

No, there was no other solution but to go that very day and tell her they were going to be married.

He looked down at Scarlett and moved a lock of her hair off her forehead. "I said many things to you that day."

She smiled back, coy as a virgin on her wedding night "You said you weren't in love with me, and if you were, I would be the last person you'd ever tell."

He began to laugh till finally he was breathless. It wasn't cold or cruel laughter, but rather the laughter of a master who'd finally been bested by his favorite pupil. "I do remember telling you that, I believe I also told you that if you ever did find the man who really loved you you'd break his heart, my darling, cruel, destructive little cat."

She stood there waiting patiently.

Wrapping his arms even tighter around her waist he pulled her flush against him. Leaning forward to whisper in her ear, his mustache tickled the outer curve of her ear making her shiver lightly, expectantly.

"God help me Scarlett O'Hara, I love you, and I always have ever since the day you threw that damn vase in the library at Twelve Oaks."

She wriggled away a little so she could cup his face in her hands "I don't know when I started to love you Rhett Butler, I wish I did. All I know is that you are the only person in the world that knows the real me. I love you so much that the thought of ever having to be without you again hurts me; the thought of it makes me truly ill. It doesn't matter where we live as long as we love one another."

Later they talked quietly while ensconced in her large bed with the curtains drawn. Rhett told her about Charleston in the last two years. "Sally has continued to champion your cause, in fact once Anne ran off she began to state loudly that she suspect Anne had something to do with you just disappearing."

"Sally suggested that Anne murdered me?"

"No, no. That would be a little too outrageous. But she has suggested that Anne might have filled your head with falsehoods in an attempt to chase you out of Charleston."

Scarlett laughed softly as she snuggled closer to him. "And you of course stood up immediately and said I wrote my wife a note saying that you were 'sorry you let yourself give into to your desire for me.' Or something to that effect"

"I was desolate with grief at losing my wife because of Anne's machinations," he replied with exaggerated priggishness.

Out of nowhere she said quietly "I've thought about it, we'll take Bess to Charleston, to visit, not stay. I can't live there, it would smother me, but we'll take her to Charleston and then we'll decide where to go next."

He kissed her hand with a gesture that could have been considered courtly if they weren't lying beneath the covers in her enormous bed. "Thank you, I appreciate it greatly. I want you to know, it won't be like Atlanta…I'm going to make it clear that a slight against you is a slight against me. I won't tolerate anyone saying anything against you."

She snuggled deeper in to the pillows "Doesn't matter," she yawned behind her hand,her wedding band now encircled her slender ring finger. She was rapidly falling asleep and it was becoming a strain to pay attention to Rhett but the sound of his voice in bed next to her after so many years was just enough to keep her interest.

"One thing still perplexes me?"

"Only one thing," mumbled Scarlett from a half doze.

"When I went to look for you in Atlanta your saloon wasn't the Girl of the Period anymore. It was Merewether's, I didn't have time to stop because I was," he paused for a moment embarrassed by his consuming need to find her before she committed herself to any man that wasn't himself, but the need to tell her the truth won out, "I was desperate to find you because I didn't want you to…"

She laughed without opening her eyes "Marry someone else?"

"Yes, anyway is that any relation to the austere Mrs. Dolly Merewether?"

"Yes."

Rhett laughed, "Well, who did you sell it to."

"I didn't sell it."

He laughed thinking she was teasing him. "Did you lose it in a card game?" he asked jovially.

"No, I gave it to Grandpa Merewether."

"You gave your saloon to Dolly Merewether's father in law," he asked his voice incredulous, "I don't understand? Why would you do something like that?"

Scarlett sighed and sat up a little; drawing the covers just over her breasts. "Because after I had donated the house to the Nuns Mrs. Merewether took me to task in front of Ella, Wade, Uncle Henry, and Grandpa Merewether. She saw me donating the house to be named in Melly's honor as some sort of an attempt to win over Ashley and she decided it was her responsibility to call me to task. She said that me giving away the house had to have an ulterior motive and then she said I didn't have a giving bone in my body. I couldn't help it, I wanted to shut that old cow up just once in my life, so I turned to Grandpa Merewether and asked him if he'd like the Saloon."

"You didn't."

"I did, I told him that he could have it as long as he was willing to leave it in trust to Wade since it was built on the property Charles left me."

"And he agreed?"

"Of course he did, last I heard from Uncle Henry the old man is having the time of his life. He lives above the place and has never felt better in his life. Dolly Merewether is in a fit to be tied even now and Uncle Henry actually lowered himself to repeat gossip to me. Apparently the rumor is that I've gotten religion and that's why I gave away the house and the saloon. If the people of Atlanta love criticizing a body most than laughing is a close second. It turns out none of the old peahens ever really approved of how Mrs. Merewether always picked on Grandpa Merewether. They think it's wonderful that Grandpa is having a grand time in his own establishment. It's given him a renewed sense of worth and I think that's just fine. Time also does a job of rearranging things in people's minds. All in all he thinks I would be welcome in Atlanta again."

She slid back down into the recesses of the feather mattress and turned her back to him. Her lips curved into a smile as she commented lightly "But, to paraphrase a very wise man I once knew, frankly I don't give a damn."

He laughed heartily at her brass. "You, Mrs. Butler, are amazing."

She rolled over to face him again, a devilish smile shaping her full lips still swollen from his earlier kisses "Why sir," she drawled, "Flattery will get you everywhere."


	22. Chapter 22

Just a shortie to keep you entertained...I OWN NOTHING...that should keep the lawyers happy.

After a morning spent packing three essential trunks of clothes and knickknacks Scarlett was nearly ready to leave. Rhett and John Moreland's valet had finished packing his trunk hours before and now Rhett sat drinking coffee in one of her wingback chairs before the fire.

The Prince of Wales occupied the other chair, his coffee untouched and quite cold. 'Much like his wife', he thought angrily.

He forced himself to speak, keeping the anger at his shrew of a wife from his voice "Scarlett, my darling, do you want me to send the rest of your things to Osborne House?"

Rhett ignored the use of that endearment directed to his wife by another man. It was clear watching the two of them together that Scarlett had been right when she had told him the love between herself and Bertie was the kind found between a devoted brother and sister and not a pair of enraptured lovers. "She's packing enough for three woman."

Bertie smiled slightly "You haven't seen the half of it my friend, we've kept court in nine different houses this year and that doesn't include our suites at Whitehall or Richmond. You're lovely clothes horse" he ducked as a painted silk fan was flung at his royal head from across the room, "has items at many of these establishments as well. There is an inventory list so that nothing disappears of course, but it's going to be a daunting task to have all of Scarlett's belongs gathered together."

"Can I help it if I'm fashionable?" asked Scarlett radiating mock indignation as she emerged from Bess' nursery with an armful of clothes.

His own voice stern Bertie answered curtly "For a woman who only wears black, white and red in public you have entirely too many dresses." His grin however ruined the impact of his stern tone.

"Well you kept buying me frocks to try to lure me out of mourning," she giggled "You and Rhett have even more in common than I thought."

Bertie raised an eyebrow. "Dancing slippers?"

Rhett shrugged "A Paris Hat."

The Prince laughed "You escaped lightly I bought her twenty gowns when the House of Worth reopened last year."

Rhett smiled, liking this man more and more. "And she didn't wear a single one?"

"No, she wore them to dinner when it was just the two of us."

"She's a terribly head hearted little thing isn't she?" replied Rhett.

"She hasn't suddenly gone deaf, mind your manners both of you." Scarlett chastised from the other room.

Both Bertie and Rhett shrugged, they exchanged smiles.

Rhett spoke in a low voice meant for the Prince only. "I haven't thanked you for what you've done for my family. I am in your debut forever.

Bertie looked across the room to where Scarlett was speaking to three footmen about the remaining items waiting to be packed. "Rhett, it's I that owe you a great debt. Many time I thought that I should have at least told Scarlett to go to see you in America. I regret that knowing what I know now."

"Well if we each owe one another a debt then that cancels them out don't you think?"

"Good in that

"

Finally the trucks were packed and Bess' nursery dismantled and the suite that Scarlett had occupied so often over the last year was now stripped of her presence.

Scarlett turned slowly to survey the room, it wasn't her own any more and that was a sobering thought. She would be looked upon as the cast off mistress of the Prince of Wales. The only thing that mattered though was Rhett and Bess. She had her husband by her side once more so who cared what anyone thought. To the devil with anyone who looked down on her, she was happy which was better than being respectable any day.

The Prince's valet entered the room and after bowing to the prince he bent forward to whisper in the Prince's ear.

"Very good," the Prince said as he rose from his chair. "Love the carriage is ready, it's time."

Scarlett nodded and Rhett rose and went to her. "I love you."

"I know, I love you too."

Bertie came to stand next to her. "Rhett, I have to ask, David," he gestured to the valet, "can take you down the back stairs to the front door, I have to escort Scarlett down the front stairs otherwise it will be perceived as though she is simply done entertaining the Prince of Wales. I want her to be able to keep her head high and proud."

Rhett wanted to tell him 'no, she's my wife and it's my place to escort her anywhere she needs to go.' But the Prince was right; Scarlett had lived with this man for a year and a half. Most of Europe believed them to be a couple with a child. If Scarlett were to leave the house without being escorted to her carriage by the Prince every guest at the house party would fairly buzz with the news that Madame Scarlett was escorted out in secrecy so as not to further offend the Princess Alexandra. She would lose face and she had already lived that life in Atlanta mostly at his instigation. The Prince was only doing what was best for Scarlett and Rhett had to accept that.

"I'll be waiting for you," he placed a soft kiss on her lips. Then after bowing to the Prince he gestured for the valet to lead the way.

After the two men left then alone Bertie turned to face Scarlett. "I have a gift for you."

"Your friendship has been gift enough," she replied.

"As yours has been to me." He removed a box from his coat pocket. "Open it."

Scarlett took the hinged jewel box and slowly opened it. Nestled on a piece of velvet was a ring. Its centerpiece was a flawless ruby encircled by chips of garnet. She lifted it and placed it on her finger above her wedding band.

"The ruby is a symbol of freedom and contentment and the garnets mean consistency. I've wanted to give you this for a long time but a ring seemed a sort of declaration. I'm foolish to think that but nonetheless it's what I felt. But now that we may not see each other…for a while," he added hastily in response to the fleeting shock of pain he saw in her emerald eyes, "so take this as a token, if you are ever in distress send me this ring, I will come for you and Bess. I will come for you. I am not a man for woman, the sight of a well turned ankle or the expanse of exposed breast does not make my blood heated. But you are you and I love you deeply. If I were a man for woman I'd fight Rhett Butler for you with every ounce of charm I possessed."

"It is a considerable amount," she said trying to lighten their increasingly dismal mood.

"It is isn't it," he replied with a smile. "I love you Scarlett Butler, and should you ever need a Prince to rescue you or a friend to stand by you, I'll come."

"Oh Bertie, "she threw herself into his arms and they stood together for what seemed like an eon holding one another, denying the fear that they might never be together again.


	23. Chapter 23

They walked together hand in hand to the top of the grand front staircase. Scarlett looked down and was instantly apprehensive. Bertie had made it seem as though he just wanted to escort her from the house by the front door. Now, however; she realized that nearly all the household servants were standing in a sort of receiving line at the bottom of the stairs.

Scarlett remembered how the house servants would do something very similar on the few rare occasions her mother would leave Tara. Her mother would speak to Lulu, the upstairs head maid; she'd speak to Pork and Martha the cook. Mammy would wait at the very end so she could then accompany her mother on the journey. Scarlett leaned slightly forward to look for Renee and sure enough there she was, proudly awaiting her mistress.

Bertie had done this to show the entire Ton that Scarlett was not being forced from the house; she was leaving of her own volition. There were groups of his guest, gathered in clusters below. They wanted to watch how Scarlett's exit was handled. The Princess of Wales was conspicuously absent. There was also some sort of commotion toward the India garden room, but the stairs were angled in such a way that Scarlett couldn't see what was the cause of the buzz of excited conversation coming from that direction, unless…

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Traditionally when a guest took leave at a royal house party earlier than the other invited guests, the lady of the house would grant a short personal interview with that guest. In theory it was to insure that the guest hadn't been slighted in some way but in reality it was simply a way to obtain gossip. Who'd left early and the equally important why would circle the party for days and it was nice to have answers to those queries. Would she have to take leave of the Princess of Wales? She didn't completely put it past Alexandra to not heap public scorn on her. Could she bear being denounced in public as a whore by a Princess? She squared her shoulders, she'd bear it because it wasn't true and anyway Rhett was waiting for her. Let Alexandra call her a whore and anything else that she liked. Bertie and most importantly Rhett knew those allegations to be false, let Alexandra do her worst.

"Are you ready to run the gauntlet my love?"

Scarlett nodded, "Yes, just let's get this over with."

They descended the stairs looking every inch the devoted lovers being forced to say good-bye because of fate and circumstance. The prince's guest whispered about howdistraut the Prince looked and how resigned Madame was. Clearly neither relished the idea of parting. The Prince was going to cohabit with the Princess but only because of political expectations, which was now abundantly clear. The generally consensus of the guests was that this had been the house party of the century to be out. Not since the party where King George the IV had met Maria Fitzherbert had there been such a notorious party.

At the bottom of the stairs Gregor the Butler took her arm from the Prince's and began to walk her down the line of assembled servants. The Prince walked a step behind in a telling display of his devotion and respect for Scarlett. The maids and cooks assistants all curtsied as though she were the Queen herself. The valets and under butlers, the servers, the dogs bodies, every one of them bowed low to her. Many of them thanked her for her guidance or for their being hired by her. There were blessings and best wishes, in all it was an outpouring of emotion for the woman that the majority of the Prince's household staff considered to be their true mistress.

Scarlett graciously thanked each and every one of them for their many services and kindnesses to her.

Finally they reached the end of line and Bertie once more took her by the elbow and led her toward the India Room.

"Bertie," she murmured under her breath, "don't make me do this please. I don't want to see her, can't you just make my excuses?"

"Why on earth wouldn't you want to see her, she adores you."

"Alexandra!" replied Scarlett shocked at his words.

"No, my…" his next words were drowned out by the gentleman caller as they entered the room.

"My lords and ladies, gentleman, I present his highness the Prince of Wales. My lords, ladies and gentleman, Mrs. Scarlett Butler."

At the end of the red carpet stretching before them on a raised dais sitting in a beautiful gilt chair keep specifically for her visits was Queen Victoria herself

"Bertie, no oh no, why is your mother here? Alexandra will be furious at your mother showing this kind of favor."

"Let my mother do whatever it is she intends to do."

Scarlett fell to her knees when they reached the dais. She kept her eyes downcast waiting for the Queen to give her permission to rise.

That permission did not come. Instead Victoria stood and after briefly greeting her son she turned her attention to the still kneeling Scarlett.

She reached forward and titled Scarlett's chin upward. Scarlett looked into the Queen's hazel eyes and waited.

"We've heard tell that you'll being leaving our son's household Mrs. Butler is it now?"

Scarlett nearly nodded which would have been a complete breach of royal protocol. She remembered herself at the last minute and carefully phrased her answer. I am indeed, your majesty. My beloved husband, whom as you may recall, I thought was deceased had instead been shipwrecked. We are now finally reunited and it wouldn't be appropriate to serve the Prince as I now have my pre-existing obligation to my husband to honor."

"And what of our God daughter?"

"The carriage awaits us to take myself and Mr. Butler to Osborne House."

"We will expect to see Elizabeth at least once a year, if not more."

"Of course your majesty. We would be honored if you'd visit us once we are in residence at Osborne House."

"We should like to confer some honor upon you in respect to your devotion to this family."

Scarlett blushed. "But," she stammered, "I'm not a British citizen. Please the kindness that I've been shown by the entire royal family is honor enough." What could Victoria be planning and how had she come to be here on the very morning of Scarlett's departure unless… She glanced at Bertie out of the corner of her cat shaped eye. He was smirking with a great deal of self-pleasure. He had somehow gotten his mother to come here to award her a title as a farewell present. But it couldn't't be a title, she wasn't't English so that excluded her from a peerage.

Her attention returned to the Queen who had raised her voice to address the crowded room. "Though traditionally June 20th is the day we conifer this honor which is mine own to award to those who have performed personal service for their Sovereign. Scarlett Butler has been a loyal friend to the house of Saxe-Coberg these past two years and we have delighted in the order she has restored to the residences occupied by the royal family. Where once waste and sloth were found, now order and accountability reins. We are most pleased with Mrs. Butler and so in appreciation of her services we confer upon her membership in The Royal Victorian Order granting her the title Dame Grand Cross. Thus she will be, upon rising, be so addressed as Dame Butler."

She gestured to one of her ministers who stepped forward with a the mantle of office , worn only by Knights and Dames Grand Cross. The mantle was a dark blue satin coat, edged with red satin. On the left side was a representation of the star worn pinned to the left breast.. The star was an eight-pointed silver star.

"Rise Dame Butler."

Scarlett glared at Bertie. He was obviously enjoying the ceremony and honor being shown to his friend. The minister began to step forward to help Scarlett into the blue silk coat but the Prince reached out and took the coat slipping it on Scarlett. His mother briefly smiled at the Prince's dedication to Scarlett. Of course her son loved this woman. It was unfortunate that Scarlett was not of a royal line. She would have served well as a bride for her son. What was done however was done and Albert would just have to learn to show Alexandra the respect due to his wife.

Victoria spoke again "The collar Lord Melerad."

The collar, was made of gold. It consisted of octagonal pieces alternating with oblong frames. Each octagonal piece depicted a gold rose on a blue field. Each frame contained one of the following inscriptions: "Victoria," "Brit. Reg meaning Queen of Britain "Defender of the Faith" and " Empress of India" in Latin. In the center was a medallion bearing Victoria's effigy.

The Prince draped the collar around Scarlett's neck and shoulder before bestowing a kiss on each of her cheeks. "Now no one can ever slight you or insinuate you were anything less than the love of my life," he whispered softly.

Scarlett only smiled before turning to the Queen. She curtsied deeply. "I'm overcome, I've no words eloquent enough with which to offer my thanks."

"Then say nothing, we know what is in your heart, it is written clearly in the pride on your face." Victoria leaned forward and gave Scarlett the customary kiss on each cheek just as her son had done only moments before. "God bless and keep you Dame Butler." In a voice meant only for Scarlett she added, "You and my granddaughter."

Scarlett nodded, tears strangling her breath. This poor woman, for all that she was Queen of England she was so pleased thinking that Scarlett's daughter was her son's issue. It vindicated her from blame for the Prince's supposed interest in his own sex. It wasn't Victoria's fault that the Prince couldn't love his pale shrew of a wife. If Alexandra was prettier or of a more vivid personality than certainly she would have been loved as much as Scarlett.

She knew that Rhett wouldn't be pleased with so much of Europe thinking Bess was Prince Albert's daughter but she would look to that tomorrow. Today was a time to rejoice in once more having had a friend who would defend her to the world and praise her to the skies.

The Queen took Scarlett's arm and Bertie took the other. They escorted her back down the aisle formed by the aristocracy who bowed and curtsied as their Queen and future King passed them. No one would ever slight her afterwardsbecause they would look to this morning and know that Scarlett carried the stamp of royal approval.

There was Rhett waiting by the front entrance. The three of them came forward and Rhett ever the man of the world bowed low before Queen Victoria.

She addressed him regally. "You are Mr. Butler whom we've heard so much about from our dear friend Scarlett?"

"I am your highness, may I take this occasion to express my deep gratitude at all you and your family have done for my wife?"

"You may."

"I will forever be your servant your highness. The treatment Scarlett received from your family puts my mind to ease. I feared for her while we were separated and to know that she was cared for is a great relief indeed."

"I've told Scarlett that we expect to see Elizabeth at least once a year, if not more."

Rhett's expression changed and if Scarlett hadn't know his expressions she would have never noticed, as the change was barely detectable. Obviously he didn't relish being told what was expected in regard to his daughter. He answered politely because he had no wish to antagonize the Queen of England.

"Your highness we will endeavor to please you."

Queen Victoria studied Rhett with a scrutinizing expression. "Mr. Butler, Scarlett has been a good friend to this family. We trust that we will have nothing to fear in the treatment she will receive from here on out?"

Rhett could hear the implied threat in her words and chose to ignore it. "Your highness, I've spent these last two years searching for my wife, I love her more than I can say. I will protect her till my dying day, she has nothing to fear from me…no matter what."

It was obvious to him that the Queen was worried that Rhett would hear the gossip regarding his wife and her son and perhaps seek to punish Scarlett or her daughter. The Queen believed Bess to be her granddaughter and nothing anyone would tell her would change her mind. He wasn't pleased, but for Scarlett's sake he could let it be, for now.

The Queen let go of Scarlett's arm. "God bless and keep you child." She leaned forward and once again kissed Scarlett once on each cheek.

Bertie let go of her other arm. "I love you darling girl," he raised her hand bearing his ring to his lips. "If you ever need me…" he left that statement open ended, its implications were well stated. The Prince may be letting her go physically, but chains of devotion would link him to her forever.

Scarlett could no longer keep the tears back, headless of who was watching amongst the aristocracy she pitched herself into the Prince arms. He held her head against his left breast cradling the back of her head as she sobbed. "Shh, it's alright, you finally have your husband and I've had the honor of having a friend who loved me for who I was, not what I could give you. I'll miss you…" he looked over her head to Rhett, his eyes beseeching. 'Take her, please I can't stand having to say goodbye.' The Prince mouthed to Rhett.

Rhett nodded and reached for Scarlett. She went to him and he held her up, wrapping one arm around her waist.

"Kiss Bess for me," said Albert.

"I will, I'll write."

He smiled fondly. "I shall eagerly await the missives bearing your further adventures."

Scarlett curtsied to the Queen and again to the Prince. The Queen gave a nod of dismissal but the Prince bowed deeply to Scarlett, setting off further whispers from the assembled crowd who had been watching the Prince and Scarlett say their good-byes.

Rhett helped her up into the carriage.

The prince addressed Rhett one last time before he too climbed into the carriage.

"Take care of her."

"For the rest of my life," answered Rhett simply, trying to conceal the pity he felt for this obviously unhappy man. It was seldom he felt sorry for anyone, but the Prince of Wales had been so kind to Scarlett and not because of her face or body. Rather he had been kind to her because Scarlett had won a part of his heart. Rhett could afford to like this man a great deal because they both loved Scarlett but at last Rhett knew that he had her heart.

The carriage pulled away from Havenhurst House and Scarlett cuddled close to Rhett resting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you ready to go and meet your daughter," she asked quietly.

"I can hardly wait," said Rhett.

"It will be wonderful to hold her again."

"Are you away from her often?" Rhett asked.

"No, very rarely, in fact. However neither Bertie nor myself wanted to have her in the same house while Bertie was having a house party. I was going to be occupied entertaining and Bertie with business and Havenhurst has many secret stairwells and passages. We were simply concerned for her safety. Bertie and I planned to join Bess at Osborne House as soon as the party ended." She bit her lip gently.

"You'll miss him a great deal, won't you?"

"Of course, I'm so grateful to be with you. I'm grateful that you and our daughter will finally make one another acquaintance. But Bertie was there with me during dark days and I can never forget that. He was a friend, a brother, my strength when I had none."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

He pulled her even closer "I'm sorry I was a fool, my bad judgment cost both of us a great deal."

"That's in the past Rhett and we have a whole future to enjoy, together."

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey to Osborne House simply enjoying one another's company.


	24. Chapter 24

_**This is it the 2nd to last chapter then it's on to a different story.**_

_**Oh good god no I never though my writing was poor enough to be compared to that rag Scarlett, now I am terribly sad. Oh who will confort me**_

The carriage pulled into the stone drive of Osborne House; the tiny bluestones kicked up by the wheels pelted the side of the carriage.

"That sounds as though it's raining," Scarlett commented listening to the stones striking the carriage doors...

"And it wouldn't matter if it was, today I'm going to see my daughter. It's a wonderful day."

Scarlett laughed. "Aren't you Mr. Sunny," She teased.

"So what if I am, it's not everyday a man meets his daughter for the first time."

Fussing with her skirts Scarlett tried to decide how best to approach a difficult subject concerning Bess, finally she decided to simply say what was on her mind. "Rhett, just don't expect too much…at first," she added quickly.

"What do you mean? She's a baby, of course I'm not expecting very much, she's barely 18 months old."

"She just might be confused about who you are to her." Scarlett glanced out the window as Osborne House began to loom large in its entire splendor before them.

A thought came to him and he tried to voice it calmly. "Does she call the Prince, daddy?"

She shook her head slightly, she could hear the sadness behind those words and she spoke softly trying to comfort him. "No, she calls him Birdie actually. But she doesn't know the word daddy in relation to calling a man daddy. I honestly don't expect that she'll use it, at least at first. She's also a little shy around strangers, I just don't want you to expect an instant bond like you had with Bonnie."

"I understand."

The carriage came to a halt and the door opened a minute later.

Rhett stepped out first and offered his hand to help Scarlett down. A tall, thin, gray-haired man stood a few steps away from the carriage.

The man bowed low to Scarlett, demonstrating to Rhett just how well thought of Scarlett was in apparently all of the Prince of Wales residences. "Madame Robiliard it's a pleasure to have you back in residence.

"Thank you Clyde, but it's no longer Madame Robiliard, it's Mrs. Butler. Would you let the staff know."

If Clyde thought anything unusual in that his mistress had returned without his employer and with a husband in tow he didn't let it show.

"Of course Mrs. Butler. I've taken the liberty of having the heads of staff schedule an appointment to be in your salon at 5 o'clock."

"You knew I was returning?"

"Yes Mrs. Butler, the Prince sent word this morning to expect you in the afternoon."

Scarlett gestured to Renee who came to join them. "Clyde caution the staff the less said about myself and the Prince, the better." Clyde bowed low. She turned slightly to address her maid, "Renee please go up to the nursery and have her nanny prepare Bess."

"Yes Madame."

Scarlett shook her head slightly.

Renee blushed a pretty shade of rose. "Mrs. Butler."

Rhett offered Scarlett his arm and together they entered the house, which thanks to the generosity of the Prince, was now hers.

Once they arrived in Scarlett's suite Rhett began to look anxious.

"She's going to love you," Scarlett offered.

"I already love her, it feels odd to suddenly have a child once more."

The sound of the door opening caught his attention. A blond woman in a blue dress with a starched white apron entered the room holding a child.

The baby's green eyes fell upon her mother and she chortled joyfully.

Scarlett rose and took the baby from the nurse. The child snuggled close to her mother and played with the earbobs dangling from Scarlett's ear lobes. Rhett began to walk over to them but Scarlett gestured toward the couch. He sat and waited for them to do the same.

"Bess, Bess baby, this is your daddy," Scarlett said softly.

Bess looked over at Rhett and shook her head back and forth widely.

Rhett looked at Scarlett who was gave him an encouraging smile.

"Yes." Scarlett said.

"No, no, no." said Bess still shaking her head.

"Rhett, it's nothing personal, this month everything is no. Last month it was cat, everything she saw was a cat."

She gently handed Bess over to Rhett who held her, he resisted the urge to hug her to hard so instead he just stroked her black baby soft curls.

"She looks very much like you."

"She has your chin."

Rhett glanced down at the firm rounded jaw of his baby daughter "No doubt she'll grow into it." The baby began to wriggle in his arms.

"Put her down on the carpet, ever since she's learned to walk she can hardly bear to be held. She likes to explore."

Reluctantly Rhett put his daughter down. She immediately toddled over to Scarlett and began playing with her mother's skirts.

"She doesn't put up with cuddling for too long, I'm sorry to say."

"Don't apologize, she seems happy."

Scarlett nodded. She reached down and tickled her daughter's neck. "I suppose we should start making plans to go to America."

"You don't really want to though, do you?"

"Honestly, no. I hate the thought of all those people judging me."

"I swear I'll make it as bearable as possible."

Scarlett laughed and picked Bess up. "Does that mean you'll throw water on the fire when the townspeople try to burn me at the stake."

Two Months Later

Rhett closed the door to the Butler's cabin aboard the Lucania, a steamship owned by the White Star line. The trip to Charleston had not gone as well as he had hoped it would. His sister had been the main source of conflict.

His mother, of course, had been overjoyed to find that she was a grandmother once more. She exclaimed over how the baby had her Uncle Rutherford's ears, which Rhett had inherited. His sister, on the other hand, had taken precious little time before insinuating Bess was a bastard and Scarlett was obviously taking advantage of Rhett's feelings for children. His child to be more specific.

Rhett had thanked God that Scarlett had been at Sally's house during the exchange between him and Rosemary. Rosemary had dragged him into the library while his mother introduced the baby to her garden club.

"You are letting mama become far to attached to the child. What happens if Scarlett decides to run back to that child's father?"

"I am Bess's father. Mother sees it, nearly everyone in Charleston sees it, why can't you?"

Rosemary snorted, "Because I know a whore when I see one."

"And yet you chose not to warn me about Anne." He couldn't help it, the retort left his lips before he could swallow it in the interest of sibling unity.

"Anne was seduced by that Doctor and we all know it."

"We meaning you perhaps, the rest of this town sees things as they really were. Anne trying desperately to marry me while I was sick over Scarlett."

"You're still sick over her. Don't think I don't see how your eyes follow her while she's in the room. You stare at her like a tomcat stares at a mouse. Every time someone encounters Scarlett your fists clench at your side as though you were preparing to smash a fist in the face of anyone that dare comment on the fact she was a run away wife."

"She didn't run away, I pushed her till she had no alternative but to leave."

"She brought however you treated her on herself."

Rhett crossed over to the window and peered out through the rain. "That isn't the truth."

Rosemary flopped down on the love seat. "That's not what you told me two years ago. You told me she only married you for your money and that she was obsessed with that Wilkes man. She didn't act like a wife then, why should I believe she's suddenly transformed."

"I told you too damn many things now that I think about it."

Rosemary stood and joined Rhett at the window. "Please," she beseeched him, "She made you so unhappy the last time you were with her, how can you forget that? How can you ask me to forget what she's done to you."

"She's forgotten a lot of what I've done to her. I owe her that same courtesy."

"And you believe that child to be yours?"

"Bess, my daughter's name is Bess. No more of this child nonsense, she has a name."

Rosemary shrugged and stalked out of the room leaving her brother in an angry state of mind. His spinster sister had no right to judge the complexities of his marriage to Scarlett. He wished he'd never made her privy to the pitfalls of his marriage. If he hadn't she wouldn't have specific examples of Scarlett's shortfalls to throw in his face.

Later that night Rhett climbed into the bed in his bedroom in the house that he had bought for his mother after the war. His mother, savvy as she was, immediately ascertained from the way that he treated Scarlett that this visit he and his wife would most certainly share the same bed.

"How was Sally?"

"Sally is Sally as usual. She took me in her arms before two dozen women during her at home and wept on my shoulder about how the wicked Anne chased me from the loving bosom of my family and friends. I felt like the heroine in a half-penny novel."

"Sally can always be counted on when a friend is in need."

Scarlett shifted over slightly, "Your sister despises me." It wasn't a question, but rather a sad observation.

"Rosemary is still having difficulties in understanding how we became reconciled."

"Also how I convinced you that Bess is your daughter must remain a mystery to her."

"I know Bess is my daughter and that's all that's important."

They said their good nights and Rhett wrapped his arms around her as she drifted off. Rhett stared up at the ceiling. He had initially thought that he could convince her to stay in Charleston for at least six months so that his mother could bond with Bess. His sister was making that impossible.

Rosemary was openly hostile to Scarlett and she ignored Bess. That hurt his mother greatly. She wasn't happy that Rosemary hated Scarlett, but she could understand that. Rosemary was convinced that Scarlett had hurt Rhett and couldn't be trusted to not do so again. But to treat Bess as a nonentity, that sentiment his mother couldn't understand.

Then there was his brother Ross. Ross had lost his wife Elizabeth the year before and since then he'd descended into a constant drunker stupor. The only times he rose out of it lately were to make attacks on Scarlett's character. It had nearly come to blows but Rhett's mother had intervened and asked Ross not to come to the house again until he was sober. Rhett assumed he wouldn't see his brother again for the rest of their visit.

Finally with much on his mind he drifted off into a fitful slumber.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Okay this is the last chapter, this is it, done, even if no one likes it because I am already 15 pages into my new story and I need to focus on that. I love you all for commenting and I hope you'll look at the next story. I honestly don't write for the reviews, I write because I love Gone With The Wind and I was the kid that could never accept "and they lived happily ever after" I always said "yeah and then what?" I'm glad to share my work with others who want to ask and then what.**_

'Thank God that's finally over,' thought Scarlett as she picked up Bess to lay her in her cot. She was deeply relieved to be back on the steamship that would take them back to Europe. Of all the places in the world to visit Charleston would never be high on her list of must visit destinations.

Rhett's sister despised her, which was fine because so far as Scarlett was concerned the feeling was more than mutual. Rosemary had made it obvious from the moment they arrived that she heartily disapproved of Rhett bringing Scarlett and her child back to Charleston. She'd heard them arguing one afternoon when she had come home early from Sally Brewton's at home afternoon. His sister had actually dropped all pretenses at ladylike dislike and had resorted to name-calling.

Of course Miss Eleanor tried her best to make Scarlett feel welcome and Sally had launched a massive love me, love my dog assault on the doyennes of Charleston society. Rhett had felt it best not to mention that she now had a title and Scarlett agreed. She just wanted to let Miss Eleanor spend time with Bess and leave. It wasn't that she wanted to flee with her tail tucked between her legs; it was just that she no longer had the patience for the false facades everyone wore in Charleston, indeed in the south as a whole. She also missed being the darling of the royal family and the encouragement to speak her mind no matter how outlandish the statement. After all Bertie had to hold his tongue on many occasions but how could he be held accountable for his French mistress's comments?

Then there was Rhett's brother, Ross. Scarlett had never told Rhett how Ross had thrust his tongue into her mouth the first time they'd been introduced. His words "Where did my brother find a fast piece of baggage like you," still lurked at the back of her mind. Of course Miss Eleanor made excuses for Ross's behavior saying that Ross had been in a deep decline since the death of his wife Elizabeth. Scarlett had wanted to holler "then what was his excuse when Elizabeth was still alive?"

Last night she had felt Rhett's body stiffen with frustration as they lay together in his bed at his mother's home. She'd know that he'd hoped their visit would go well so that she might be convinced to spend months at a time in Charleston. He hadn't said as much but she knew just the same.

Breakfast had been beyond uncomfortable, Scarlett thought as she stroked Bess's curly hair. Rosemary hadn't come downstairs at all and Ross had effectively been banned from the house, which was fine by Scarlett. Miss Eleanor had been angry and disappointed by Ross and Rosemary's treatment of Scarlett. As far as she was concerned whatever had happened between Scarlett and Rhett was just that, between Scarlett and Rhett. If they could see past the pain and hurt and love one another then no one else had the right to judge or in Rosemary's case interfere.

Scarlett fingered the locket around her neck. Miss Eleanor had given it to her just as they'd left the house. One half was an empty oval and the other was a small portrait of Rhett as a toddler. As soon as they reached England she was going to have a portrait done of Bess and place that in the lockets empty half.

Finally they were returning to England. They had Osborne house and from there they could travel anywhere. She wanted to visit Notre Madame du Cimetière de Lis in Paris. It was the cemetery where Ella was buried and she knew that Rhett would want to pay his respects and she wanted to make sure the grave was well tended and resplendent with flowers. She had paid a great deal to have the grave with tended and she wanted to make sure that was being done.

Bess had finally dozed off and Scarlett smiled at her beautiful daughter. Her face was gentle, the hard edge that had lurked about her face had been replaced, worn away by the love she felt for her daughter. The love she felt for Rhett had finished the transformation. She finally had everything she had ever wanted, even if she hadn't always known what it was she wanted.

Rhett opened the cabin's door and stepped in smiling faintly. Scarlett had let her hair down from the pins that had been holding it in an upsweep, now it cascaded down her back loose and slightly curling. She has leaning over the cot tucking blankets around Bess and the light streamed in from the porthole. It looked as though they could have just stepped from a Da Vinci painting of the mother and child.

The noise from the door opening caught Scarlett's attention and she glanced up to meet Rhett's longing gaze with a smile of her own. "Shh," she cautioned as she stepped away from Bess's cot. Together they went into the stateroom that connected to the cabin. During the day they were going to use the cabin as a place for Bess to nap so they could be together and not bother their daughter.

Once Rhett closed the door she wrapped her arms around his neck and fitted her body into the curves and hollows of his body. "Did you see Rosemary?"

He didn't bother to deny it. "Yes, I asked her if she'd come aboard to say good bye if not you then at least to her niece."

"I see," Scarlett replied, "and she said?"

"Nothing I could repeat in front of a lady."

"How about in front of me?"

He bent forward and kissed her neck softly "Are you insinuating that my wife is not a lady."

"I've heard that ladies have seldom held any charm for you."

He rubbed lazy circles on her back with his fingertips. "You're a cruel wench to use my own words against me."

"And you aren't as clever as you like to think, now without changing the subject again what did you sister say?"

He rested his chin on her hair and held her a little tighter. "She said that I was a pigheaded fool and that when you hurt me again then I'll regret tossing aside her good advice."

Scarlett smiled even though Rhett couldn't see her expression. "Ah, she trotted out 'and then you'll be sorry, that was one of Mammy's favorite tunes."

"Mammy was a remarkably intelligent woman," Rhett comment smiling.

Scarlett tilted her head back so she could look up at her husband. "She use to hum it about you."

Rhett laughed recognizing Scarlett's teasing as good-natured "As I said a wise woman your Mammy."

"She wouldn't come see Bess?"

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"Rosemary's a Butler and unfortunately once we get an idea into our heads to dislodge it requires a Herculean effort. I can't change her mind and frankly I am not going to concern myself. Perhaps one day she'll come around when she sees how happy you make me. And you do," he lowered his lips to hers and caught her close; Scarlett wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He kissed her at the highest point of her cheekbones; he nuzzled her neck gently tickling it with his just trimmed moustache. Her light moans of pleasure filled their stateroom as her head fell back to give him even more access to the fine white column of her throat.

"My God you make me so happy that I wonder how I could have thought I could be happy without you," he whispered in her ear causing her to squirm with pleasure at his nearness.

"You couldn't have been," she replied smugly.

He laughed heartily before kissing her again and again until she was breathless.

As the ship left Charleston Harbor Scarlett slept, wrapped in Rhett's arms. The last rays of afternoon sun fell across the bed while their daughter slept soundly in the next room. Rhett for the second time in two days stared up at a ceiling while contemplating the events of the last three months. He was no longer frustrated with his sister's actions, if Rosemary couldn't accept his happiness then that was her choice. Everything that she held against Scarlett was in the past and there was nothing in the past that he wished to dwell on. He had all that he needed in the here and now. His wife and daughter loved him and finally after so many years of searching for the peace that always just eluded him he'd found it.

Rhett laughed softly so as not to disturb Scarlett, he had found peace in the one place he would never have thought to look for it, with Scarlett O'Hara.

Scarlett opened her eyes and reached up to cup his cheek. "What are you laughing at?" she asked sleepily.

He covered her hand with his and slid it over his face slightly so he could kiss her fingertips. "I was laughing at how foolish I was to look for peace and serenity when what I was looking for was my own wife."

She smiled up at him. "I had to become who I am now without doing it to please anyone but myself. However," she kissed his mouth gently, "I love you so very much, even if you're foolish sometimes," she said her lips curved in a teasing smile.

He smiled widely his teeth white and even in his tanned handsome face. "I'm so pleased to know I have your goodwill." He lowered his lips to hers and gently probed her mouth with his tongue as he ran his hand down her rib cage till it rested gently on her hip. She whispered against his lips as he kissed her again and again, "I love you Mr. Butler."

He kissed her earlobe and then nipped it gently with his teeth "I love you too Mrs. Butler, and I will for the rest of my life." He began to unbutton her traveling gown's bodice and as each inch of flesh became exposed he covered it in searing kisses till she cried his name as loudly as she dared. Overcoming the shyness that she'd always had toward undressing him she reached up and began to unbutton Rhett's shirt even as he struggled out of his tailored suit jacket. Finally they were both undressed and amid the discarded clothes that now littered the bed they made love, bathed in the last golden rays of the setting sun.

_**The End**_

_**Mrs.Scarlett Butler gave me the biggest laugh **_

_**In the Danish Language the word Slut translates to The End**_

_**Finally my tale is at an end or slut as the case may be**_


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